


the night we met

by lilabut



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Language, F/M, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-05 15:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17327354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilabut/pseuds/lilabut
Summary: To Cassian, every day is the same. Dedication to his work is all he has to distract himself from the bitter and bleak loneliness that haunts him.Until one night, he meetsher, and his world is turned upside down.





	1. I am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my [sweet beta](https://stardust425.tumblr.com/) for all the support over the last months. This story took a lot longer to finish than I planned, but it's all wrapped up now. Expect weekly updates :)

_I am not the only traveler_  
_Who has not repaid his debt_  
_I've been searching for a trail to follow again_  
_Take me back to **the night we met**_

the night we met, lord huron

 

 

Cassian sighs, absent-mindedly circling his finger along the rim of his beer bottle. It's ice cold, little droplets of water running down the neck of the bottle and dampening his hand.

  


Loud music echoes all around him, the bass deep and causing the air he breathes to pulse. Beneath him, the wrought iron chair digs into his thighs and lower back, and he taps his foot along to the beat of a song he doesn't even know or particularly enjoy.

  


The club is fancy, of course it is. Leia chose it after all. But it's down to earth enough to not make him feel entirely out of place.

  


The walls are all exposed brick and metal poles. Purple, blue and white lights embedded deep into the ceiling and walls, casting a hazy glow. The floor is made of heavy and dark polished wood that reflects the lights above, the dance floor a solid concrete lost beneath too many feet to count.

  


The bar Cassian has sought out is in the back, long and imposing with hundreds of liquor bottles rowed up on illuminated glass racks across the wall.

  


He hasn't seen Leia since he first arrived, his congratulations quick before she disappeared into the crowd again. At least half the precinct is here, along with more people he doesn't know and has little to no interest in getting to know.

  


He should have offered to take an extra shift tonight instead of letting Bodhi talk him into coming along. He, too, has disappeared into the crowd almost the instant they got here, leaving Cassian behind at the bar to feel lost in the midst of countless people. It's a lonely thought.

  


Kay, his partner, is working the Fett case alone tonight, always the first and most enthusiastic to decline an invitation of any sort. Being stuck at the precinct with dusty old files and the stone age computers sounds almost tempting right now. Nobody would notice if he left now. Slipping away would be easy, and the promise of the fresh night air is almost too tempting to resist. He might walk home, save the money for an Uber and stretch his tired legs out a little.

  


He is taking one last sip of his beer, ready to slide out of the chair and weave his way through the dancing crowd towards the exit, when someone brushes his shoulder and slides into the empty chair next to his.

  


At first, he only looks out of curiosity. But then he can't help but linger.

  


She's beautiful. Short, even in the black heels she's wearing, pale legs stretching on until they meet the hem of a simple black dress just above her knees, thin straps melting against her collarbones and a line of black buttons down the front that's almost too inviting. There's a small black bag on a delicate chain slung across her shoulder. Her hair is a rich chocolate shade of brown, shimmering almost kaleidoscopic with the lights of the club and cascading over her shoulders.

  


“Sorry,” she says, rosy and full lips forming an apologetic smile.

  


“Hmm?” Cassian hears himself murmuring, a little taken aback by the sight of her.

  


Her brows narrow.

  


“I didn't mean to bump into you,” she explains in a British accent that sounds starkly out of place here, pointing vaguely at his face. “Sorry.”

  


Only now does Cassian realize he accidentally spilled some of his beer when she passed him, and he's quick to wipe a few stray droplets away from the stubble of his beard with the sleeve of his dark blue shirt.

  


“That's all right,” he assures the woman with a dismissive shrug, watching as she crosses her legs and rests her elbows on the dark mahogany counter top of the bar.

  


There's no way she works at the precinct, he would have noticed her there. So, she must be one of Leia's friends from elsewhere - but Leia has friends in social circles that are so beyond him that he feels a bit intimidated just at the thought of who this woman might be. A politician's daughter, a lobbyist, an actress.

  


He remembers then that he meant to leave before, but he hesitates now. For a moment, he plays with the idea of asking her something, anything. But he's a fool, that's what he is. He hasn't done that since college - speak to strange women in clubs or at bars or bought anyone a drink or even thought about taking them home. Fuck, it's been a year since he had sex.

  


He shakes off that thought, ready to get out of here, when the woman's voice glues him back to his chair.

  


“Is that any good?” she asks, nodding at his half-finished bottle of beer. Her eyes, he notices, are a marvelous shade of green, framed perfectly by black eyeliner. At least he thinks that's what it is called. Bodhi had bought some for Halloween last year, but thanks to food poisoning he never got the chance to use it.

  


“It is,” he replies, taking another sip. It would be a waste to leave it behind anyway.

  


The woman smirks then, a mischievous little expression that makes his skin feel tight. Slowly, she leans in, just enough for him to notice a sweet, flowery scent, and perhaps he imagines it but his lungs rejoice as he takes a deep breath.

  


“I'd ask you to buy me one but I guess Leia's paying for everything,” she says then, almost nonchalantly and it's so bold that Cassian feels his eyes widen. She just purses her lips, fingers tracing the edge of a small glass bowl full of blanched almonds. “Shame.”

  


He's staring at her, lips parted and eyes full of disbelief, and it takes him a moment to fully understand that she is giving him an opportunity here. Maybe she has sensed that he won't take that step, maybe her first impression of him is _that_ pathetic, but what he does know for sure is that he'll regret not taking this chance.

  


“We could pretend,” he replies with a shrug, trying hard to appear more confident than he feels. Fuck, it's really been too long. Kay would sound smoother than him, he's almost sure of that, and Kay has never spoken to a woman with any sort of intention that strayed from professional. And even then he's usually stiff as a broomstick.

  


The woman's face lights up with a smile, and god, it's mesmerizing.

  


“Fine,” she says, a hint of surprise laced into her words.

  


Cassian leans in a little closer, trying his best to appear genuine even if this is just pretend. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, the question nearly twisting around his tongue because it feels so unnatural.

  


She laughs softly, looking almost pleased.

  


“Sure.”

  


Cassian can't help the way the corners of his mouth twitch with a smile, and he ducks his head for a moment to hide it before looking for the bartender. He's over at the sink, catching his eye as Cassian waves and points at his beer.

  


“One more, please,” he calls.

  


When the bartender sets it down in front of the woman, she instantly takes it, holding it out for Cassian.

  


“I'm Jyn,” she tells him, and he allows himself to wonder for a moment what her name might taste like on his tongue. He takes his own beer, knocks it carefully against hers.

  


“Cassian.”

  


They both take a sip, his own no longer as pleasantly cold as before. The silence that follows becomes overwhelming very quickly, filled with static as the bass pulses around them. In his mind, Cassian ponders what he could say, what he could ask, but every bit of small talk he comes up with somehow seems unfit and not enough.

  


Jyn once again takes the burden off his shoulders.

  


“You look a bit miserable to be here,” she quips, crease eyeing him with her forehead in wrinkles as she takes another sip of her beer. Perhaps he should feel embarrassed by how plain obvious he is, by how easily she seems to read him. But he's not. Kay would call him a terrible detective, but he calls him that at least once a week anyway whenever Cassian chooses to give in to basic human needs like pizza and sleep.

  


Instead of feeling ashamed, he shrugs, peeling off the corner of the beer label - easy now that the glue has been dampened by the condensation.

  


“Parties aren't really my thing,” he explains, wondering not for the first time why he came here at all. He and Leia aren't even very close friends. Work acquaintances, yes. He respects her, likes her, yes. But he did not have to iron a shirt he never wears and drag himself here only to be miserable.

  


Jyn’s smile turns empathetic.

  


“I don't like them, either,” she confesses before continuing with a sigh. “But you can't say no to Leia.”

  


Cassian chuckles at that, grinning because damn, Jyn is right. She's looking at him with a wondrous expression, sending a flush to his cheeks and silencing him. Then, just barely, her eyes flicker down to his chest.

  


He swallows. Hard.

  


“You still have beer on your shirt,” she points out softly, so softly that he can barely make out the words. “Here.”

  


Then she reaches out, her small hand ghosting over the collar of his shirt to wipe away the remnants of his spilled drink. Cassian shudders the second her fingers accidentally brush the skin of his throat. He's too responsive to any kind of touch, too deprived not to falter at even just this.

  


Jyn lingers, perhaps having noticed the way his body shook and his fingers tightened around his beer bottle, before she eventually drops her hand back into her lap. Her dress has ridden up a little, exposing the inch of pale skin above her knees and Cassian has to force himself not to stare.

  


It's not his place.

  


“You're from England?” he asks quickly, spilling the first thing on his mind just so that the silence won't become awkward.

  


Jyn purses her lips.

  


“Great deduction,” she mocks him, but the teasing edge to her words seems harmless. ”I just moved here last month. Have you ever been over there?”

  


It takes him a moment to process her words. He's too distracted by the way her lips form around each syllable, damp with her lipstick and the beer.

  


“No, but I always wanted to go,” he admits then, a longing throbbing deep inside of him that he has buried long ago. “Travel across Europe. Backpacking.”

  


It's been a foolish dream of his ever since he's been a little boy. Travel the world, see places so breathtaking that photography and documentaries simply cannot do them justice, eat food he never tasted, listen to languages he does not understand.

  


But it's only ever been a dream. Always out of reach.

  


“Why haven't you?” Jyn asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Perhaps the longing he feels is reflected in his eyes.

  


“Life,” he explains, curt and to the point.

  


She looks away, her eyes a little distant and unfocused. “Life can really suck.”

  


“Sometimes.”

  


Life has been cruel to him many times, but he's always believed that there can be more out there. Something to wait for. Something to make all the hardship and pain worth it.

  


Only now does he notice that there's a hint of sadness to Jyn, like a thin veil she carries with pride and determination. Perhaps, he wonders, life has been cruel to her, as well. The thought fills him with dread even though it shouldn't. After all, he doesn't know her at all.

  


She's just a stranger at a bar.

  


“Where would you want to go?” she asks, sounding so genuinely curious that Cassian wonders when he got so lucky. He could still be sitting here all alone and sulking, or he could be walking home, most likely catching a cold. Instead, he gets to sit here with her.

  


“I don't know,” he shrugs as if he hasn't pictured that trip in all its luscious detail for the last two decades of his life. “Italy. The big cities. London, Madrid, Paris. I always wanted to go to the Louvre.”

  


He's not an expert on art by any means, but he can appreciate beauty and more so he finds comfort in the almost sacred silence of museums when churches have always failed to be a sanctuary for him.

  


The music changes then to something less erratic. It's slow, almost languidly so, the blood in his veins throbbing with each beat.

  


“I lived in Paris for a while,” Jyn tells him, only adding to the mystery of her. “I could show you around. Some secret places,” she murmurs as she leans in closer.

  


Her knee presses into his thigh, the simple touch burning through his jeans and sending a jolt of electricity up his leg and spine until he can feel his scalp tingle.

  


“Unless you want to do the whole tourist thing, I could show you that too,” she suggests playfully. It's only make-belief, but something about the thought of sharing that journey with her is irresistible.

  


“The Eiffel Tower?” he asks with a grin, trying hard not to picture the two of them up there. But she's easy to paint in his mind and seems to fit in perfectly like a long missing puzzle piece into all his hopeless dreams.

  


She snorts then.

  


“How romantic,” she teases, holding his gaze for a moment until she seems to come to her senses and turns away to take an impressive sip of her beer.

  


Cassian, however, cannot look away just yet. She seems cold and almost distant all of a sudden, lost in her own mind - a riddle he cannot solve. There's a kindness and playfulness to her that's undeniable, but beneath all that there seems to be darkness, sorrow, and conflict too which she tries to hide from him.

  


“You should do it, you know,” she interrupts the silence, looking at him with genuine and encouraging eyes. “Take a vacation, hell, quit your job, go to Europe.”

  


Just the notion of that pulls a shallow laugh from his throat. Kay and Draven would skin him alive, and his bank account would gladly join in.

  


“You need to be rich to suggest that.”

  


Jyn grins. As she shakes her head, she leans in even closer, close enough for him to make out the pink tint of her cheeks.

  


“Or you just need to have balls. I didn't take you for a guy who doesn't have them.”

  


Cassian's throat suddenly feels dry and each time he tries to swallow only burns more. He's all too aware now of Jyn’s knee still pressing into the outside of his thigh, of the scent of her filling his lungs, of his own body leaning in slowly like a magnetic pull.

  


“Who _did_ you think I was?” he asks, baffled by the hoarse sound of his own voice. It breaks and splinters around each syllable, the question breathless in the end.

  


Jyn’s eyes sparkle.

  


“Wouldn't you like to know.”

  


Her voice is deeper than it was before, the teasing edge replaced by a tension that is thick enough for Cassian to feel it press into his lungs. She's still too far away and yet it feels as if she's crawling underneath his skin.

  


If he wants to walk away, he needs to do it now.

  


But he can't.

  


“Perhaps I would,” he murmurs instead, and neither of them pretends it's an accident when Jyn’s hand drops from her bottle and rests against his thigh - just a few inches above where her knee still burns his skin.

  


She leans in closer, so much closer, until her lips are next to his ear and the warm dampness of her breath that ghosts over his sensitive skin causes Cassian to grind his teeth to stay quiet.

  


“Do you smoke?”

  


“No,” he croaks, just barely managing to shake his head.

  


“I do,”Jyn whispers, goosebumps erupting all over his skin. “Sometimes.”

  


Her hand slides up his leg towards his arm, slightly calloused but still soft fingers curling around his wrist and tugging softly.

  


Cassian doesn't hesitate to stand when Jyn does. Their drinks are forgotten as he follows her through the maze of people with his heart pounding a bruising rhythm against his ribs. The thrum of his pulse in his ears almost mutes the loud music, and all he can feel is the warmth of Jyn’s hand on his skin - he doesn't notice the people he bumps into along the way.

  


She leads the way, the crowd thinning out quickly the further away they move from the dance floor, until she pushes open a door tucked away at the opposite end of the club. Instantly, the cold night air bites at Cassian's skin, but it's a relief more than a nuisance.

  


He almost hadn't realized just how thick and unbearable the air inside the club had been until his lungs fill with the crisp city air. The faint scent of rain lingers.

  


Behind them, the heavy iron door falls shut, the thrum of the bass and the laughter of too many people instantly nothing more than a faint, dull echo.

  


Jyn’s fingers are still curled around his wrist, the touch of her skin burning him through layers of flesh, muscle, and bone. He's starved for it, so much so that even now he feels himself sweat beneath his shirt.

  


She keeps walking, her heels clicking on the concrete tiles of the small terrace. Potted flowers are placed everywhere, solar lights bathing everything in a milky glow. But the tables and chairs here are shoved against the walls, the string lights strung from large metal pillars switched off. It looks almost eerily abandoned.

  


Finally, Jyn comes to a halt in front of a glass banister. Beneath them, an alleyway lies cloaked in darkness, and beyond that the city and the streets stretch on like an intricate spider’s web.

  


Her fingers are still pressed against his skin, and surely she must feel the unsteady and erratic beat of his pulse. If she does, she shows no reaction to it. She's not even looking at him, instead her face is turned up towards the sky. The city lights and a layer of clouds hide most of the stars from them, and yet Jyn seems fascinated with what she sees.

  


“Have you ever seen the northern lights?” she asks a little breathlessly. The moonlight reflects in her eyes, glowing there in the most intriguing way.

  


Cassian shakes his head.

  


“No,” he replies, the rumble of a car speeding down the street almost swallowing his reply. With longing, he looks up at the sky too, trying to imagine the green streaks of light he has only ever seen in pictures. “I've never really been... anywhere but here.”

  


It's an admission that fills him with a familiar sense of shame. He went to college an hour away, has lived in the same cramped apartment for the last ten years. He went on vacation once, years ago, but only for an extended weekend at the coast. The world he calls his own is small, almost a cage that he has learned to accept.

  


Jyn turns to face him, no more than a foot of space between them.

  


“But you're not from here.” It's not a question, he knows that his accent is as obvious as her own. It makes them both strangers here.

  


“I came here as a child,” he explains, but he dives no deeper into the story than that. It's rare that he talks about his childhood or about his parents, and there's no happy ending to delight her with here.

  


Jyn accepts his silence, leaning in a little closer until the length of her arm is pressed against his. All the while, her thumb draws circles against his pulse point, distracting and all-consuming, most of his attention focused solely on the inch of skin that burns under her touch.

  


“I always wanted to see them,” Jyn whispers, sounding almost fragile. She's small, so much shorter than him, her body lithe, and in this moment, she is almost breakable in her openness. “They look… magical.”

  


A smile breaks free at her words, wide enough for his cheeks to ache. Muscles that have long gone unused protest but he cannot help himself.

  


“What?” Jyn asks, eyes narrowed.

  


“Nothing,” he reassures her, softening the smile into something more gentle. Her eyes flicker down to his lips.

  


“Are you making fun of me?” she murmurs, leaning in a little closer. Her breath is warm against his skin, a stark contrast to the chill that carries on the wind. Briefly, he realizes how cold Jyn must be with her arms and legs bare, and surely enough one glance down and he can see her skin tight with goosebumps. But the thought fades quickly, his mind too preoccupied with the way Jyn's tongue traces the full of her bottom lip.

  


Cassian shakes his head, mirroring her movement and leaning in like two magnets seeking each other out, defenseless against the physical pull. “I'm not.”

  


Making fun of her is the very last thing on his mind. She's breathtaking in so many ways, a riddle in so many others. Fierce and sweet, funny and smart, all wrapped in beauty.

  


Perhaps he's dreaming and all she is is a figment of his starved imagination.

  


“I don't really want to smoke,” Jyn whispers low enough for the vibration of her voice to send an electric current through his body. But then she stops leaning in, just an inch away from him.

  


Waiting.

  


_Shit_ , she's waiting for him to take the last step.

  


A part of him is scared to mess it all up after so long, but he can't allow that part to win. If she can be strong, then so can he.

  


“Good,” he murmurs, lifting his hand to cradle her cheek in his palm. It's smooth and so very warm to the touch, and Jyn’s eyes flutter shut the moment his skin brushes hers. “I hate the taste.”

 

 


	2. I've been searching for a trail to follow again

What little space remained between them is easily breached, and as he closes his own eyes, Cassian takes a deep breath. His heart races when his lips brush against hers, gently at first. There's hesitancy to the kiss, but his body flames when Jyn sighs softly against his mouth.

 

Her hand slides away from his wrist only to curl the length of her arm around his neck instead, the fingers of her other hand fisting the front of his shirt. She uses it as leverage to pull herself up against him, most likely lifting up onto the tips of her toes. Suddenly, she's all pressed up against him, the swell of her breasts and the flat of her stomach fitting perfectly against his body.

 

Parting his lips on a surprised gasp, Cassian deepens the kiss. It feels like nothing he has ever known. No kiss has ever taken his breath away, has ever made him feel like he wants to be closer, closer, _closer_. This makes him yearn for something he can't name and so instead his hand finds her hip, squeezes until her dress bunches in his fist.

 

He expected to feel the thrill of the unknown, of kissing a stranger. But it's so much more than that. Every nerve ending in his body sings as she traces the seam of his lips with her tongue, and he allows her inside with not even a hint of doubt.

 

A groan vibrates deep in his chest, and he hardly notices that Jyn has started to walk them backwards. It's not until his back meets a coarse brick wall that he's startled enough to pull away from the kiss.

 

Fuck, Jyn is a sight. Her eyes hooded and dark, her parted lips swollen and damp. There is desire and need in her eyes, darkening the green, and he knows she can see the same reflected in his own.

 

“Do you-” he starts, deep down still terrified she's going to turn him down.

 

But she doesn't even let him finish.

 

“Shit, _yes_ , of course,” she hisses, and then her lips are on his again. This time, neither of them hesitates. There's no gentleness to the way she nips at his bottom lip, no tenderness to the way their lips move urgently together.

 

She arches into him, his hand at the small of her back guiding her and the second she brushes against the undeniable hardness straining against the front of his jeans, Cassian is lost.

 

He needs her.

 

He's never felt this way before.

 

_Shit._

 

He turns them around, swallowing Jyn’s gasps as he presses her - perhaps a little too roughly - against the wall. Even with the heels she's shorter than him, and so he's left with grinding himself against her abdomen, the friction alone almost too much.

 

It's been so long.

 

Jyn pulls away to suck in a deep breath, her chest heaving, but a second later her lips find his jawline, suckling light enough to leave faint red marks that will fade before sunrise. Everything she does somehow seems perfect. From the kisses she trails down his neck to her arms locked around his shoulder and her fingertips drawing maddeningly against his scalp.

 

It only reminds him of how little experience he has with situations like this.

 

Instantly, he tenses.

 

“Wait-” he gasps, grinding his teeth when Jyn tilts her hips up towards his. She does pull away, the back of her head against the rough brick wall. “I've never…,” he starts, eyes cast down in insecurity. “I've never done this before.”

 

“You're a _virgin_?” Jyn asks in disbelief, and the second he looks up her eyes are widened in shock.

 

He's such an idiot. That's the last thing he wanted her to think.

 

“What? No!” He vigorously shakes his head. “I mean, I've never done _this_ before.”

 

He's only been with a handful of women, and while it hardly ever meant much, it's never been quite this anonymous before.

 

It takes Jyn a moment to process his words and uncover the meaning behind them. When she does, her features soften and her hand rests against his thundering heart.

 

“It's not that hard, I trust you,” she murmurs with a teasing edge and a curl of her lips, but still her words sink in heavy and deep and echo in his mind.

 

With a nod, he buries his head in the crook of her neck. Partly to hide himself from her and partly because he wants to taste the pale expanse of skin there. Beneath his lips, he feels her pulse, even as it jumps when he sucks and mouths at her skin.

 

With a moan, she arches into him, her hands clawing at his shoulders. Cassian can hardly believe she's as needy as he is. But then he remembers something else, and like a flicked switch he feels like someone poured a bucket of ice cold water down his back.

 

“Wait-” he gasps the same second her hands slide down his chest and stomach toward his belt. The muscles low in his abdomen contract eagerly at her touch, even through his shirt, but he bites back a groan.

 

“What?” Jyn asks, clearly starting to grow frustrated with him.

 

“Are you drunk?”

 

She tilts her head and eyes him curiously for a moment.

 

“You trying to be a gentleman now?” she asks, and Cassian just shrugs. He's not going to take advantage of her.

 

Jyn sighs.

 

“I only had that one beer, I'm not drunk,” she reassures him and he has no reason not to believe her. “Are _you_?”

 

He huffs at the question, shaking his head. Quite the opposite, he thinks, his mind is as clear as it's ever been.

 

“Not even a little bit,” he rasps, tracing his nose along her cheek and feeling her shudder when his breath tickles the shell of her ear.

 

“Good,” Jyn whimpers, so responsive to him that he can't help but kiss behind her ear. Down her pulsing artery. To the delicate curve where her neck meets her shoulder. There's not an inch of her pale, bared skin that he leaves untouched, his hands roaming almost aimlessly along the bend of her arms, the swell of her hips and the curve of her waist. He bunches her dress in his fists, pulls her a little closer and relishes in the gasp it draws from her throat.

 

His lips find her collarbone, tracing the hollow where the light catches as his fingers toy with one of the thin straps of her dress. With an easy shrug from Jyn, it falls off her shoulder.

 

The swell of her breasts that peeks out from the top of her dress is too irresistible and Cassian worries he's being too rough when he tugs the front of her dress down. It doesn't go far with one strap still holding it up, but it's enough to expose a lacy, strapless bra to him.

 

His mouth goes dry when he tugs that down too, bunching awkwardly beneath her breast. Jyn arches into him once more but he grants himself a second to marvel at the sight of her. She's perfect, so utterly perfect that it leaves him speechless.

 

But he's impatient, too, and lowers his lips to the top swell of her breast, mouthing kisses there that are gentler than before.

 

“You really don't know how to do this, do you?” Jyn murmurs breathlessly, her hands tangled in his hair and holding him securely in place.

 

“Hmm?” Cassian hums, not quite sure what she's talking about but at the same time barely registering her voice. He looks up at her through his lashes though, catching the frustrated frown on her forehead mingled with a smile she can't hold back.

 

“You're supposed to just-” Jyn starts, but it ends on a whimper when he closes his lips around a pert, dusty rose nipple and sucks lightly.

 

He could say he's trying to be a gentleman here by focusing all his attention on her, but it would be a half-lie. In all truth, he's being a selfish bastard right now, chest swelling with pride at her every whimper and moan, at every tug of her fingers on his hair. It's been so long and he knows that once he's inside her she'll only be disappointed. But this isn't about impressing her. He just wants more time with her than a dozen erratic thrusts.

 

As he gently scrapes his teeth over her sensitive skin, his free hand finds her other breast, squeezing through the fabric of her dress and bra. He can feel the hardened peak pressing into his palm and drags his thumb across, watching in fascination as Jyn’s eyes flutter shut. Her lips are parted, her breaths shallow.

 

He doesn't miss the way she tilts her hips again, pressing against his own arousal that he fights to ignore. Almost instinctively, he smooths his hand down across her heaving rib cage until he finds her thigh. Curious fingers slip beneath the hem of her dress to grab her leg, pulling it up securely over his hip.

 

The height still isn't right but he's pushing into the cradle of her thighs now, the angle awkward to maintain but Jyn doesn't seem to mind when she bucks against him.

 

It's agony not to push back, to grind himself against her, but Cassian knows that if he does he'll only embarrass himself. “Jyn,” he grunts against her breasts, forehead pressed to her chest as his fingers tighten around her leg.

 

Tomorrow morning, she might find the tint of his fingerprints there, a reminder of this night.

 

She moans in return, thrusting against him once more and fuck, her entire body pressed against his own feels so warm, so soft, so _good_.

 

His hand slides away from her breast despite her protest, and he easily maneuvers it between their bodies and underneath her dress. By now, the black fabric is bunch up around her hips anyway, not much of an obstacle.

 

The inside of her thigh is silky smooth to the touch, and he can't hold in a groan when he feels how warm she already feels there. Inch by inch he moves up higher, ignoring her impatient squirming, until his fingers graze the damp fabric of her underwear.

 

“Fuck,” he grunts, and Jyn repeats the same word, grinding her teeth loud enough for him to hear.

 

When he slides his finger just beneath the hem of her panties and feels just how soaked she already is, Cassian squeezes his eyes shut. Stars shimmer behind his closed lids and he steadies his breath as he traces her.

 

“You don't have to-” she gasps, but he shakes his head and pulls it away from her breast to look at her.

 

“It's been a while,” he confesses, his forehead coming to rest against her own. Meanwhile, his fingers don't stop exploring, gathering the slickness of her and finding the bundle of nerves at the top. One brush of his fingers there and she tenses against him, all thought of protest evaporated. “I won't-” Cassian manages to hiss through gritted teeth, but Jyn isn't listening anymore.

 

He keeps circling her, a steady rhythm that he focuses all his attention on because if he doesn't, if he pays attention to her breathless sobs or the way her leg is pressed right against his erection, then he's going to lose it.

 

“Cassian,” she moans, and he almost comes in his pants at the sound of it. His name on her lips is nearly driving him past his breaking point, and he all but clashes his lips against hers in a searing, deep kiss. Her tongue slides against his, warm and wet and it's all too much. The need for her goes too deep and is setting him on fire.

 

Desperate to feel more of her, he slides his fingers down, her whimpered protest muted against his lips and quickly replaced by a moan that vibrates through her chest when he pushes two fingers into her. She's so wet that there's no resistance, and still she's tight around him, squeezing his fingers in a grip that makes his vision go white.

 

“Please,” she begs into the kiss, and he can't deny her a thing. He thrusts his fingers into her again and again, a fast and urgent pace that she seems perfectly on board with because she grinds her hips down to meet him each time.

 

His thumb slips through her wet flesh for a moment before he finds his goal, circling her again in time with his thrusts. Ignoring that his arm is cramping up he keeps going, never falters. Jyn all but stops breathing, her nails digging into his arms as she holds onto him, arches into him, growing so tense in his arms that he knows she has to be close.

 

But fuck, the thought of feeling her fall apart around _him_ instead of his fingers suddenly overwhelms Cassian and he stops abruptly, unable to wait any longer.

 

“Fuck, why did you-” Jyn starts, but he silences her when he wraps his hands around her thighs and easily lifts her. She barely weighs a thing and is quick to wrap her legs around his waist for support.

 

This time, the length of him is pressed perfectly against her core and his knees buckle from how perfect she feels.

 

“Adventurous,” she giggles with raised brows, but there's little humor to the words. Her cheeks are flushed a deep red that spreads down her neck and chest like spilled wine. He can feel the hard peaks of her breasts pressed against his chest, dragging along his shirt with each intake of breath.

 

It's tempting to have her like this, but he's not lightheaded enough yet to overestimate himself.

 

“No way,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I'm not eighteen anymore.”

 

Jyn laughs, hoarse and dripping with desire.

 

“Shame,” she breathes, dragging the blunt of her nails down his spine and he can't wait any longer. Not even a second.

 

Looking over his shoulder, Cassian spots a table shoved against the wall just a few feet away like a beacon in the dark. He stumbles over there, his grip on Jyn tight, but his steps falter when she starts to mouth kisses down the side of his neck, suckling the skin between her full lips and _god_ , he almost hopes she'll leave a mark behind.

 

Something to remember her by.

 

He sets her down on the table, and neither of them wastes a second after that. Jyn’s all too clever hand descends down to the hem of his jeans, pulling the shirt out and dragging her nails almost gently across his abdomen.

 

A muttered curse is his only response, his head falling down to her shoulder. There's no respite before she deftly unbuckles his belt, pops open the button of his jeans and drags the zipper down. The sound of each tooth fills the silence, mingling with their panting breaths. Faintly, he can still hear the thrum of the party inside, the fact that someone might walk in on them only now really dawning on him.

 

But it's far too late to change their minds.

 

He needs her so badly, his hips thrusting forward when she palms his length through the coarse material of his jeans and _fuck_ , he wishes she'd slide her hands beneath so he can feel her fingers on his flesh.

 

But this would be over too soon and he wants to be inside her when he-

 

“Fuck!” he mutters, anger and disappointment sizzling in his veins. Jyn startles a little, pulling back her hand and leaning back to look at him. Still flushed, her breast still exposed - an absolute vision and he's a fool for not remembering this sooner. “I don't-”  he mutters, hands balled into fists next to her legs. “Do you have anything?”

 

Vaguely, he nods down between them where her dress is bunched up so high he can see the crotch of her underwear, where his own arousal is straining against the front of his pants and it's almost a pathetic sight.

 

_please please please please_

 

“My bag,” Jyn replies, nodding to the small black bag she had dropped to the ground a few feet away. He releases a rushed breath, stepping away from her and hurrying to get the bag.

 

She rummages through it for a moment and he steps back between her legs, his hands coming to rest on her smooth thighs, drawing lazy circles with his thumbs - she shivers a little in response and it's the most rewarding sight.

 

Finally, she fishes a shiny foil packet out and tosses the bag behind her onto the table.

 

“You do this a lot?” Cassian asks before he can stop himself, feeling like a complete bastard the moment he does. He doesn't even know her, so what does it matter if she makes frequent business of picking up strange men at bars?

 

All things considered, it would be the responsible thing for him to buy some damn condoms and tuck one into his wallet or something.

 

Jyn raises her brows, clearly unimpressed but still she tears open the packet.

 

“You going to judge me now?” she asks with a sharpness to her voice that could probably bring him to his knees if she put a little more effort to it.

 

A little sheepishly, he shakes his head, but whatever apology began to form on the tip of his tongue dies on a groan when Jyn shoves his pants and underwear down just enough to free him, her hand curling around his base just a little too roughly - a punishment, but he won't have it any other way.

 

The pleased half-grin on her face, bathed in shadow and moonlight, makes him shudder just as much as the two, three, four hard strokes she gives him. But before he can make a mess all over her thighs and pretty dress, she starts to roll the condom onto him, her lips at his jaw, the scent of her thick and heady in the air.

 

“Come on,” she rasps, her voice just as wrecked with desire as his own and it steals his breath for a moment to think she wants him even half as much as he wants her.

 

Reluctantly, he moves her hand away, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders instead. Suddenly, he's overcome by the urge to do this differently. To spread her out on a comfortable bed, undress her slowly to marvel at all of her beauty, take things slow, explore every inch of her.

 

Shit, he wants to sink to his knees and taste her but they've already been here too long and are tempting fate.

 

This is all they're going to get and he has to accept that.

 

With one hand, he pulls her panties to the side, not bothering to maneuver them down her legs, and the slick of her glides across his knuckles easily. With trembling fingers, he grips his base, praying silently that he'll last long enough to watch Jyn fall apart.

 

She is waiting for him, eyes hooded, full of expectation and locked with his. Almost in a trance, Cassian can't make himself look away, even as he pushes against her entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he begins to push into her. She's so wet that it's an easy glide - easy enough that one strong thrust would bury him deep but he doesn't give in. Instead, he watches the way her lower lip quivers with each inch he moves forward, the way her hands clutch him tight, the way her thighs lock around his hips.

 

When he has gone as far as he can go, the entire length of him buried inside her, wet and warm and feeling too good, he grows very still.

 

It feels too much like a key sliding into a lock, like a puzzle piece completing the picture. God, it feels so _right_ that his whole body feels like a live wire, exposed and vulnerable and raw.

 

She looks surprised, sighs softly.

 

“Jyn,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek in his palm. Nothing has ever sounded quite as perfect as her name on his tongue, he thinks.

 

“For the record,” she breathes, sifting her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. “I don't do this very often either.”

 

She's scolding him, there's no doubt in his mind, but the genuine softness in her voice takes him completely by surprise. Overwhelmed by it all, he melds his lips against hers in a kiss that's deep and slow and prompts a sigh from her.

 

Her legs lock around his hips tighter than before, pulling him even deeper inside her than he already was which he thought was impossible. Stars spark behind his closed eyes and he pulls away from the kiss, feels the warmth of her ragged pants on his swollen lips.

 

“None of my business,“ he murmurs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear that's frizzy from the sweat that glistens on her skin. “I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be an ass.”

 

Jyn eyes him curiously for a moment, almost as if she's carefully weighing his words and looking for any hint of a lie where there is none. When she's happy with her assessment of him, her lips curl into the slightest smile that he could stare at for an eternity. But she doesn't grant him that luxury - instead she slams her mouth to his so urgently that Cassian nearly stumbles backwards.

 

He holds himself steady with one arm around her hips, pulling her onto him as he begins to move inside of her. With her tongue caressing his, her teeth sinking into the flesh of his lips, her fingers tugging at his shirt and raking down his back and her body rocking against his, he can hardly focus enough to move steadily.

 

Instead, his thrusts are erratic, deep then shallow then deep again. Shit, it's like he’s a virgin all over again after all, his hands roaming over Jyn’s body - overeager and wound too tight to focus.

 

But he _has_ to focus.

 

He's close already, months of pent up frustration coming to a boiling point, and the way Jyn moves against him, moans at his every thrust, grabs for him - it's all driving him to the edge so much faster than he feared.

 

His forehead is in creases, teeth grinding and he glides his hand from her breast down her rib cage, slipping between their bodies and fuck, he can feel himself disappearing inside of her.

 

Jyn tears her lips from his, his name a gasp on the tip of her tongue when he finds the bundle of nerves that had her singing before. It's a slick mess and he has trouble finding a rhythm, smashing his fingers against her flesh again and again but he seems to be doing it right.

 

Jyn’s back is arched, her walls fluttering around him, sucking him in deeper. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, head thrown back and her exposed neck is an offering Cassian cannot refuse.

 

He lowers his lips to her throat, drags his tongue across the salty skin and picks up the pace of his thrusts.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Jyn hisses, meeting him each time with a tilt of her hips. “Please.”

 

Whatever she's asking for, he's terrified he won't be able to give it to her. She had been close before, close enough for him to assume that he'd have enough time to get her to the edge now.

 

Shit, how wrong he'd been.

 

“Jyn-,” he grunts, his voice too high, too strained. “I can't- I'm going to-”

 

Vigorously, she shakes her head, tugging at his hair to the point of pain. “No,” she whines, grinding up against his hand and tightening her legs around him - none of which helps him. He tries to think of something other than this, than her. Pictures crime scene photos and stale coffee and Kay's monotonous voice as he reads some asshole his rights.

 

It doesn't help because Jyn moans louder than before, and shit, she's twitching, contracting, arching against him.

 

He can't.

 

“I'm close,” she breathes, eyes squeezed shut, and it's what finally drives him over the edge. White hot heat curls at the base of his spine, electricity shooting through every nerve in his body as he thrusts into her harder than before - hard enough for the table to knock into the wall again and again and again until-

 

He muffles his deep groan against her breasts, drives himself as deep as he can go. His vision goes black, and he can feel himself pulsing inside of her, her walls fluttering around him.

 

Jyn has gone silent.

 

_Fuck_.

 

A part of him wants to run, but what he wants more than anything - even in the hazy aftermath of his release when his nerves still buzz - is to make up for this.

 

His fingers still linger between them, having gone slack. He sucks in a deep breath, his legs feeling like jelly and he has to really slam his feet against the concrete to keep upright.

 

Before Jyn can pull away, unsatisfied and no doubt disappointed, he picks up the quick rhythm he'd adopted before. The first time his fingers circle against her flesh, Jyn gasps in surprise.

 

Daring to look down at her, Cassian catches a glimpse of her widened eyes and the amazement that's embedded in the depths of green.

 

She didn't expect him to finish the job and somehow that fills him with a sense of pride. His lips seek out her skin against as his fingers flick quickly against her, like playing an instrument. Slowly, he ghosts kisses up her throat, along her jaw and behind her ear.

 

“I'm-” she whimpers, holding on to his arm for dear life. “I'm go-”

 

He's still hard inside of her, only slowly beginning to soften. By now, it's agony to feel her contracting around him - he's too sensitive, but he ignores the pleasure pain that makes him see flecks of white.

 

Pressing a little harder, circling a little faster, he keeps going, intent on nothing but to make her feel even half as good as he did.

 

It hardly takes a minute before she sucks in a deep, sharp inhale and goes rigid against him. The way she clamps down around him is enough for tears to gather and sting in his eyes and Cassian has to sink his teeth lightly into Jyn’s shoulder to suppress the pained groan he can't contain.

 

Jyn is dead silent, her lips parted, back arched, every muscle in her body strung tight until a few seconds later she goes slack.

 

She all but deflates against him, melting into his chest with a shuddering exhale. Inside, however, the waves of her release are still gripping him. He can see her pulse trashing in her neck, can feel her heart pounding against his own chest.

 

The grip of her legs eases a little, her arms going soft around him.

 

Cassian feels like his flesh has turned liquid, his vision still blurred. It's been a long time since he's felt this good. That contentment is what makes him nuzzle his nose against the sensitive skin just below Jyn’s ear, pressing a kiss there because he wants to.

 

Jyn sighs, her hand smoothing down his back.

 

Lingering in this moment forever suddenly sounds like the only thing he could ever want. But then Jyn allows her legs to fall open, and her hands smooth up his chest with a steady amount of pressure - enough for him to get the hint and take a step back.

 

When he slips from her, it draws a whimper out of them both, the connection broken, and almost immediately Jyn drops her hands from his body entirely.

 

In an instant, Cassian feels the cold night air bite his skin.


	3. I had all and then most of you; some and now none of you

She's trembling, smoothing her hands down her thighs to straighten out the skirt of her dress. The cold catches up with Cassian, too, catching him where his hands and groin are slick with  _ her _ .

 

With ease, Jyn slides off the table, and there's a hint of pride surging through Cassian when her legs wobble a little under her weight for a brief moment before she composes herself again. The click of her heels against the concrete echos as she moves to retrieve her bag; wordless and methodical.

 

Even as she turns her back to him, Cassian feels more naked than he did before. He makes quick work of the condom, tying it up and tossing it into a trash can a few feet away. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't be bothered to carry it home with him as another reminder of this. 

 

Quickly, he buckles up his pants, hands a little unsteady now that the mood has shifted. Disappointment has quickly replaced euphoria, and whatever had felt so right about what happened is now tainted with regret. There's a reason he never does this sort of thing and he should have known better than to assume this would be any different.

 

They scratched an itch. It's as simple as that.

 

Still, anger begins to boil in his veins as he watches Jyn comb her fingers through her hair. Anger that isn't directed at her, but at himself for falling for the illusion that there was anything special about this. The way Jyn reapplies her lipstick and tucks her hair behind her ears, straightens her dress and brushes dust off the black fabric, only proves that she knows how to handle herself much better than him.

 

How to accept this for what it is.

 

He, however, lost himself in her and in the idea that something that felt this right simply had to mean something.

 

It's bullshit, that's all it is.

 

His gaze meets Jyn’s then, bathed in the pale, cold light of the moon and the solar lamps. Uncurling his hands which he had balled into fists, not wanting her to think he's some kind of asshole, Cassian takes a deep breath. Whatever attempt he makes to appear unfaced is poor at best because Jyn’s stoic expression falters.

 

There's sorrow settling into the sharpness of her eyes, softening her face but he doesn't want to see it. The last thing he needs right now is pity, especially coming from her.

 

Hell, he's a grown man. He should very well be able to fuck a stranger in a club and not feel himself crumbling to pieces afterwards. But that's not him, he has to admit in this moment.

 

It's just not who he is. 

 

When Jyn walks up to him, slow steps and ducked head framed by her dark hair, he wants to believe this is not her either.

 

She sighs so softly that he can hardly make out the sound. Her steps slow until the tips of her heels are pressed to the toe of his own shoes. They were shiny once upon a time, now they're worn and faded.

 

Watching her hesitate makes Cassian wonder if perhaps she feels the same turmoil raging inside of her, or if she's simply trying to find the right words not to offend him.

 

He wouldn't be, the fault here lies entirely in his own hands. 

 

When Jyn lifts her hand to cradle his cheek in her palm, he cannot help but lean into it. Just one more second of her touch, he thinks, justifying his own desire over and over as her thumb ghosts across his cheekbone.

 

“This was…,” she whispers, bravely holding his gaze even as the words falter and turn to silence between them. She's close enough for him to taste the sweetness of her breath, and for the tip of her nose to nudge his own. “Let's not ruin it,” she continues, her voice breaking a little as she pushes her forehead to his own.

 

Cassian's eyes fall shut and he exhales with all the sorrow and regret he feels in this moment, filling up his lungs and heart and making it hard to breathe.

 

Itching with desire, his fingers want to reach for her and hold her just a moment longer, just another second to allow his brain the illusion that she's not going to disappear like a ship in the night. Deep down, he knows she's not wrong. What happened between them felt special, not just to him, but to hold on to it too tightly, to try and force it into something it is not, would only shatter it.

 

He nods because he doesn't want her to think he's the kind of sap who will make this difficult, who will refuse to let her go.

 

Attachment is not something he does. Nothing could ever come of it in his life, and so he handles it with extreme caution.

 

_ Fear _ , a little voice in his head hisses at him.  _ You're afraid of it. _

 

It's not attachment that makes it difficult to feel Jyn pull away, that makes it hurt. No. It is, perhaps, a sense of hope that she had lit inside of him - something he hasn't felt in much too long. That hope, hardly more than a flickering flame, quickly fades with every step she takes away from him.

 

When her hand falls away, he catches himself reaching out to hold it. It would be so easy to curl his fingers around her wrist. And something about the weariness that slows Jyn down makes him believe she might not even push him away if he did.

 

But he does not want to fool himself or her, and so he drops his own hand back to his side. Jyn’s eyes flicker down for a moment, and she looks almost a little disappointed - or perhaps that's just wishful thinking.

 

“Just promise me you'll go to Paris one day,” she mutters then, her lips forming a smile that's less genuine than any she has gifted him tonight.

 

Nodding weakly despite knowing it's a promise he won't be able to keep, Cassian watches as she turns away. Her hair cascades down her back as she walks slowly back towards the door, every echo of her steps sending a shudder of dread through his veins.

 

Perhaps it means he's a terrible person, but he hopes, deep down, that Jyn feels the same way. That something is holding her back as much as it pulls him forward. One step, then another until he calls her name and they both freeze.

 

Her hand hovers over the door handle. When she turns to look at him it's slow and hesitant, her face unreadable.   
  


Suddenly, he doesn't know what to say.

 

For a few seconds they simply look at one another, trapped in the moment with neither of them knowing how to move forward.

 

The honk of a car a few blocks away breaks the spell, and they both flinch at the sound. One last time, their eyes lock, and Cassian nods. A silent agreement that Jyn mirrors, a heavy sigh passing her lips and then she's gone. As quickly as she had appeared in his life, she slips through the door and blends into the noisy crowd - until the door falls shut and he's left behind.

 

Immobile. Lost. Baffled.

 

“Fuck,” he grunts, running a hand through his hair. The scent of her still clings to his skin and he knows it will last. A sorry reminder, a poor token. 

 

A few minutes pass, each second lasting a lifetime as Cassian stands there alone in the dark. Only the dull echo of the music and the quiet hum of the city keep him company. Surprisingly, his thoughts don't roam. Don't stray to Jyn, to what they have done or to what could have been.

 

He's focussed on the moment, on the ache in his thighs and the light sting at the back of his neck where her nails scraped his skin, on the cold that creeps beneath his untucked shirt and sends goosebumps like an avalanche across his flesh. 

 

It’s late and he should be heading home. At this point, he’ll be lucky to even catch a few hours of sleep before his alarm will tear him out of bed again. There’s no point in staying now. There never was.

 

With a tunnel vision, he walks back into the club, weaves his way through the dancing, laughing, singing crowd. It’s stifling hot and humid in here, the bass of the music making him feel nauseous. His feet pick up the pace, the muscles in his legs rigid as he pushes and pushes and pushes until finally he makes it to the front door. Nobody lingers here, but when he steps out, a few people are smoking on the sidewalk. 

 

Thankfully, he knows none of them. 

  
  


The walk home is a blur. Faintly, he notices the flickering streetlights and the occasional car that passes him. He keeps his arms wrapped around his torso, offering at least a little shelter from the cold wind. His cheeks feel flushed, his feet tired. 

 

Nobody else is out here now, just him and the city lights until he’s right in front of his apartment building. 

 

His neighbors are fighting again, their yells echoing in the dark hallway. Beneath his feet, the stairs creak, each step louder and heavier than the one before. The woman next door cries, muffled and pathetic, as Cassian slides the key into the lock. It’s a little jammed and he thrusts his shoulder against it to push it open, the old linoleum floor screeching and the door hinges whining in protest.

 

Inside, everything is just how he left it.

 

Mostly bare, very few memories spread out.

 

It’s not home.

 

He’s never really had one.

 

* * *

“You look miserable.”

 

Kay’s greeting is like sandpaper on Cassian’s nerves. He tosses his bag beneath his desk and allows himself to fall into his chair - the faux leather is cracked and peeled off in large chunks, revealing the stuffing beneath. The padding is flat after years of use and it creaks whenever he moves an inch. 

 

“Good morning to you, too,” he mutters, eyeing his partner with a stern look. He’s polished as always, his shirt and suit spotless, hair perfectly in place. Cassian considers his own desk tidy, case files stacked neatly and his pens and other utensils gathered in a metal cup. But it’s a mess compared to Kay’s desk. Everything is arranged to the millimeter, even inside the drawers.

 

Most days, he doesn’t even seem human. If the government is working on secret AI projects, then Kay is definitely a product of that. He’s a damn good detective though, and the best partner Cassian could ask for.

 

Except in moments like this, he wants to find the off switch hidden somewhere underneath his tailored suit.

 

“I assume you let yourself a little loose at Miss Organa’s celebration last night?” Kay asks with pursed lips and raised brows. He’s probably been here for at least an hour, already typing away on a report.

 

Pulling his cell phone out of his bag and turning off the sound, Cassian rolls his eyes. “For the first time ever, you assume wrong.”

 

Kay isn’t oblivious to his many oddities but he’s easy to tease all the same. This morning, however, he is well composed and only raises his brows more, staring at Cassian across their pushes together desk with a hint of disdain and disapproval.

 

“It would have surprised me, I will admit that,” he says, taking in the sight of Cassian - assessing him. “Are you feeling ill? Bodhi surely does, he has visited the bathroom no less than three times since he arrived.”

 

Cassian chuckles at that. He should feel bad for Bodhi but he abandoned him at the party last night and deep down, he can’t help but feel a little delighted that he’s paying the price for that now. After all, it’s easy to assume he had a good time. 

 

“Why is he here already?” he asks, casting a glance at the large clock on the wall while switching on his ancient computer. He’s early, barely having slept at all last night. No doubt, that’s what alerted Kay. The dark, puffy circles beneath his eyes, the paleness of his cheeks after a breakfast of two cups of coffee and an apple that had seen better days.

 

He feels like shit, but not because of the one beer he had.

 

“Apparently Draven has found a new partner for him, it’s all on very short notice,” Kay explains all while continuing to type, the rapid _click click click_ of his keyboard a familiar sound by now. It fits right in with the muttering of their colleagues around them, the hum of the computers and the sharp ring of too many phones. “They met earlier, or so I have been told.” 

 

Bodhi’s partner for the last three years had quit last month after a particularly close call. Pretty much overnight, he’d disappeared, transferred somewhere out of state. They haven't heard a word from him since.

 

Cassian cranes his neck to take a look at Bodhi’s desk - cluttered as usual - and notices a fresh stack of files on the opposite desk that had been empty and abandoned for the last few weeks. 

 

It can’t hurt to have a fresh set of eyes, and Bodhi has been working himself to death lately to cover for his partner, but the prospect of someone new, someone they don’t know and cannot trust yet, is already tiresome.

 

“Any news on Fett?” Cassian asks then, eager to get to work just to get his mind off… Well. Jyn. She’s been filling his thoughts from the moment his head hit the pillow last night until now. He can still see the dark of her hair and the green of her eyes, and he shudders at the memory of her touch. 

 

It’s ridiculous and pathetic and not like him at all and he needs to focus. 

 

“Unfortunately, no,” Kay sighs, pausing and eyeing the burner phone on his desk for a moment. “I am still waiting for my contact to get back to me.”

 

They’ve been working on the Fett case for month. A hitman, highly skilled and stealthy. For years, murder and accidental death cases had gone unconnected until Kay, doing research during his time off, had noticed similarities in old files. A pattern. For a while, they assumed it was a serial killer they were hunting in the shadows, but a paper trail eventually let to something larger.

 

It had taken them almost six months and multiple undercover missions to connect a face to the crimes. An organization.

 

And finally, three weeks ago, a name.

 

They know Boba Fett is the man they are hunting. But most of their evidence so far - piles and piles of it - is circumstantial and will not hold up in court. They need more, and after all this time, the case is grinding and exhausting and frustrating.

 

“I’m getting some coffee. Do you want some?” Cassian asks, pushing himself out of his chair - his thighs are just the slightest bit sore and he bites back flashes of Jyn’s legs wrapped around his waist and her hands in his hair.

 

“No, thank you,” Kay replies, already back to work on his report, nodding towards a large glass bottle full of a light green drink. A concoction Cassian isn’t very eager to know more about.

 

He purses his lips remembering the last time Kay forced him to try a spinach and algae oat milk shake. Grabbing an empty cup he left on his desk yesterday, “Enjoy that,” he calls as he heads towards the department’s small kitchen, fingers tapping restlessly against the cup. God, he needs to pull his shit together.

 

Life goes on.

 

It always does.

 

He is deeply familiar with the concept of loss, but he is clueless as to why this feels so much like that. It makes no sense, should be easy to ignore and forget but the memories of Jyn and of how she made him feel linger. Persistent and stubborn no matter how hard he tries to let go of them.

 

“Great,” Cassian mutters barely half an hour later, staring at the frozen screen of his computer. “Crashed again.” He leans back into his chair with a heavy exhale, teeth grinding noisily. This is exactly what he has no patience to put up with today.

 

“You seem to be in a particularly sour mood today,” Kay points out, sipping on his drink. “It is unprofessional. But I am well aware you do not value my opinion.”

 

“I do value your opinion,” Cassian replies, reaching down to pull the plug out of the back of the computer, counting the seconds in his head before plugging it back in. He must have told Draven at least half a dozen times that the computers need to be fixed or - better - replaced. “Just not on this.”

 

“I am not wrong.”

 

Cassian watches the screen flicker back to life, booting slow as a snail. It doesn’t help that Kay, an entire head taller than him, is staring down at him from across their desks. 

 

“Are you ever?” Cassian mutters, drumming his fingers against his mouse.

 

“Statistically, I am only-” Kay pauses, his face deadpan. “It was a rhetorical question.”

 

Cassian can’t quite hold back a chuckle. “It was,” he confirms with a teasing grin, but it deflates quickly. It’s like his muscles are resistant to the motion today. Jyn’s smile had been mesmerizing, the taste of it so sweet on his tongue and-

 

_ Fuck. _

 

He shakes his head, grabbing a file from the stack and flicking through it just to distract himself. The pale corpse on the crime scene photos is almost enough.

 

“Everybody!” Draven’s holler makes Cassian jump in his chair, the man’s voice deep and authoritative. “Can I have your attention for a moment?”

 

Cassian turns around in his chair, facing the milk glass door to the Captain’s office at the other end of the room. The man is middle aged but looks much older, worn out by too many years working and leading this department. His suit is pristine but out of fashion, a little too tight around the middle in recent months. Over time, his hair has grown thin.

 

Many of his colleagues have issues with the man, but Cassian has never had a reason to complain. Sure enough, he often disagrees with how Draven chooses to run the department, but the man has always guided him well and trusted him.

 

Right now, though, Cassian doesn’t spare a single glance at his superior.

 

Next to Draven, with dark hair tied into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and wearing dark, tight jeans and a gray blazer, is Jyn. 

 

He must be dreaming. 

 

Perhaps the beer affected him more than he thought.

 

Someone must have put something in his coffee.

 

She is right there, so small next to Draven, looking as fierce as he remembers but her porcelain facade cracks just a little with a hint of nervousness. 

 

She’s  _ real _ .

 

“As we all know, Detective Rook has shouldered a lot of work in the past few weeks since Detective Stern’s departure,” Draven explains, but Cassian only barely hears his words. They are a faint echo as his eyes meet Jyn’s across the room. Sweaty palms tightens into fists as her eyes widen a little in shock.

 

“I am pleased to introduce his new partner, Detective Jyn Erso.”

 

_ No, no, no.  _

 

This cannot be happening.

 

Jyn swallows deftly, and Cassian can feel a lump forming in his own throat. The smile she forces is strained and she is quick to look away from him. He, however, is entranced. Shocked. He expected never to see her again and, judging by the expression on her face, so did she.

 

“She’s joining us from Scotland Yard,” Draven continues, waiting for the hums of approval around the room to die down before he continues. “I am sure you will all make accommodations, we’ve all been new once.” There are a few nods and agreements here and there, a phone ringing across the room. Draven turns to face Jyn, holding out his hand. The gold watch he always wears shimmers in the fluorescent lights of the old ceiling lamps. “Detective, it’s my pleasure.”

 

Jyn takes his hand for a firm shake. “Thank you, sir,” she says, smiling once in the general direction of her new co-workers before dropping his hand again. Cassian feels sick, his stomach twisting and his heart pounding a bruising staccato against his rib cage.

 

“Now, you’ll all get to know each other eventually,” Draven says dismissively and with a wave of his hand, already turning back around to his office. “Get back to work.”

 

Work. There’s so much of it.

 

But as the crowd that had lingered during Draven’s brief speech quickly dissolves, Cassian is only left with looking at Jyn, half a world away and yet so close. Much too close. She’s looking at him wearily, fingers ghosting over the brand new, shiny badge on her belt.

 

She’s here to stay, which means that whatever plans Cassian had to forget her and erase the searing memories of her, are foiled.

 

Slowly, she looks away.

 

Breaking the spell.

 


	4. I don't know what I'm supposed to do; haunted by the ghost of you

Throughout his career, Cassian has done more than his fair share of undercover missions. He's good at them, which surprises him each time considering the fact that lying and dishonesty do not come easy for him; considering how he despises those qualities in other people.

 

But in all these years he's never been more grateful that he doesn't falter and crumble easily than he is right now. Bodhi is heading towards them, wearing a bright grin that almost covers up the sickly paleness of his skin - he _really_ must have enjoyed himself last night. He's waving enthusiastically over his shoulder, and Cassian's heart clenches in his chest.

 

“Jyn, come over here!” Bodhi calls, his voice carrying over the noise in the office easily, turning it into a distant chatter.

 

Cassian dares to look at her, still standing next to Draven’s office. There's a hint of hesitation to her as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, but she composes herself quickly. Just like she had done last night - only ever granting him glimpses behind the mask she wore with such confidence.

 

Her steps are light as she crosses the room, but the look in her eyes, no matter how well crafted her poker face is, is enough to give her away. Not to the others. They are oblivious. But with each step she approaches, Cassian feels himself tensing, every muscle in his body ready to run.

 

When she comes to a stop next to Bodhi, it's too late for that.

 

“These are Kay and Cassian,” Bodhi introduces them. He looks very happy with his new choice of partner, although at the rate he'd been running himself into the ground lately they probably could have assigned him a gorilla and he'd have rejoiced. “They’re working the Fett case as well. It’s a bit of a group effort.”

 

Cassian forces a polite smile onto his lips, holding out his hand because what else is he supposed to do? Her eyes flicker down for only a brief moment, easily missed. Then, slowly, she takes his hand and gives him a firm shake.

 

“I’m Jyn,” she says, lips curled into a smile, as well. She's good at this, too, Cassian thinks as she drops his hand and reaches out for Kay. Every inch of skin where she touched him burns. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Kay's handshake is brief, and there's no polite smile on his face. Then again, he hardly ever smiles, regardless of his mood.

 

“I assume you have been briefed on the case?” he asks instead, emotionless and down to business as he sits back down in his chair and folds his hands on top of a stack of new reports from the medical examiner.

 

Instantly, a hint of confusion washes over Jyn’s face. Her forehead creases and her eyes grow a little narrow. It's a common reaction towards Kay but Cassian is suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kick his shin under their desks. He bites it back, plants his feet firmly on the ground and stands still, teeth grinding nervously.

 

Bodhi just rolls his eyes with an annoyed sigh.

 

“I- I have been, yes,” Jyn replies then, clearly startled by Kay. She's not the first one by far and will most definitely not be the last.

 

Kay purses his lips, assessing her for a moment before he nods. “Good.” 

 

A second later he's back to work, acting oblivious to their presence.

 

Cassian holds Jyn’s gaze when she seeks him out, and if he wasn't so shocked to see her he'd try to reassure her that Kay's behavior has nothing to do with her.

 

But he can't. For all he knows, he's just staring at her like a complete freak, making her even more uncomfortable than she already must be.

 

“ _ Okay _ ,” Bodhi sighs, dragging out the last syllable and grimacing in Kay's direction. “Well, I guess we should… get to work.” He turns to Jyn, and she seems to ease up a little - a skill that comes so easy to Bodhi that Cassian has envied him for it more than once. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

 

Jyn looks more than a little relieved, nodding and quickly following Bodhi as they head towards the staircase. Cassian jolts as her shoulder brushes his and for a brief second she is so close to him, close enough for him to breathe in the scent of her.

 

But he steps away with a muttered apology after a heartbeat, his hip bumping into the edge of his table hard enough to leave behind a bruise. 

 

“ While you  _ get to work _ ?” Kay calls after Bodhi and Jyn, air-quoting the last words with more than a hint of disdain tainting his voice.

 

He doesn't even bother to look up, which means he misses Bodhi’s bemused face and the trace of an amused smile on Jyn’s lips as they head away.

 

“Come on,” Bodhi mutters, and then he's talking to Jyn too quietly for Cassian to make out any of it. A second later, they have disappeared into the crowd and around the corner to the staircase, leaving him behind cold and stunned.

 

This can't be happening.

 

He's so, so screwed.

  
  
  


 

“Cassian?”

 

He all but jumps out of his skin at the sound of her voice and he hates that she has this effect on him, that she can render him so completely vulnerable and can catch him off guard when little else can. He prides himself in his skills that make him a good detective, but in her presence they all seem to wither away.

 

He steadies his hands, wrecked by a sudden tremor, before turning to look at her. The department's kitchen is small and so she's just a few feet away from him even where she leans against the door frame. Paint is peeling off beneath her hand, dark blue a stark contrast to the pale of her skin.

 

Briefly, Jyn casts a glance over her shoulder, allowing him just a glimpse of the insecurity she carries, as well.

 

“Do you want any?” he asks dryly, nodding down at the cup of coffee he'd been pouring himself. “It sucks, though.”

 

“Doesn’t it always?” Jyn laughs softly, forcefully, but fuck if it's not a sweet sound either way. He grunts in response, shrugs his shoulders. None of the thoughts swirling aimlessly in his mind come close to a decent reply.

 

Jyn sighs, taking a few, brave steps steps forward and leaning her hip against the stained counter. “Is this going to be awkward?” she asks. There's no hint of judgment laced into the question but it stings all the same.

 

“It kind of already is,” he admits quietly and with a faint edge of shame. They're grown people, this shouldn't be such a minefield to navigate. “Did you know?”

 

“No.” The reply is quick and the shake of her head determined. “I didn’t. If I had, I would never have-”

 

“Listen, nobody knows,” Cassian interrupts her. He has a hard enough time trying to grasp what happened between them last night and it won't help to hear her reasoning for why it never should have happened in the first place. “Let’s just… Let’s just pretend it never happened,” he murmurs instead, curious to keep his voice down. If anyone overheard even a fragment of their conversation, gossip would spread like wildfire. “Get the job done. That’s why we’re here.”

 

Jyn listens to him quietly, her eyes too intense for him to look into. When he's finished, when all the words have tumbled from his mouth, she takes a deep breath.

 

“Okay.”

 

It's void of any emotion and somehow, that hurts more than if she'd been offended. Dread simmers inside of him when he watches her spin and walk away, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

 

“Jyn?” he calls after her before he can stop himself, her name forming so easily on his tongue. She seems a little surprised, more so than him. “Are you- Kay, he can be a bit rude sometimes,” Cassian explains, but deep down he curses himself for caring enough to take the time to make excuses for his partner. “He doesn’t mean it like that. Don’t take it personally.”

 

Jyn offers him a thin-lipped smile that barely lasts a heartbeat, but it's the most genuine one he has seen since last night when everything was bathed in moonlight and the crispness of the night air.

 

“He’s a bit of a character, isn’t he?”

 

If they gave out awards for understatement of the year, Jyn would have secured her win right about now.

 

“Oh yes,” Cassian confirms with a dramatic slow nod and the unexpected realization that he's mirroring her thin-lipped smile from before. 

 

They both grow silent as the moment passes. Around them, the department is loud and busy as usual, everyone else oblivious to the quiet war and even quieter defeat Jyn and him are waging here. 

 

“See you around, Cassian,” Jyn murmurs after a while, a mournful quality to her voice - almost as if she regrets what they did, or curses life for taking away however she chose to remember last night.

 

Perhaps that is what's driving him to the edge of insanity here. The fact that life just threw her at him, took her from him only leave his mind questioning years and years of conditioned solitude, and then forced them together like this again.

 

It's hardly fair.

 

He nods, curling his hand around his cup of coffee that's now lukewarm at best.

 

“See you.”

 

* * *

** three weeks later: **

 

There have been many times over the last decade when Cassian felt that work was overwhelming, when cases drained him physically and emotionally. Day after day and night after night buried in crime scenes and interrogation rooms, paperwork piling up until the scent of paper and ink became nauseating.

 

But nothing, even the most jarring cases that shocked him to the marrow of his bones, have been as emotionally exhausting as the last few weeks. Working alongside Jyn day in and day out, pretending that what happened between them never actually did happen.

 

It's an act, and a challenging one at that, for them to get to know each other. Perhaps by now they'd be getting along well - had they been strangers. Instead, every word between them is meticulously calculated, focused on work, never straying into small talk.

 

There's no spite, no impoliteness, no harsh words. But it's cold and stoic and settles heavy in Cassian's stomach. Each morning he wakes with a sense of dread and helplessness.

 

He almost wishes they could sit down and talk, figure out a way out of their misery because he thinks,  _ hopes _ , that the situation must be hard on Jyn as well. She's settling in, has proven herself skilled and smart and a valuable addition to the team in just a few days. Even Kay has warmed up to her and throws her fewer questioning glances.

 

They need her.

 

She's here to stay.

 

But if things don't change, if they cannot find a way, then one of them will have to go.

 

The thought alone hurts Cassian more than he's willing to admit to himself.

  
  
  


 

The air in the van is stale and humid, the skin beneath his collar damp. Almost in a trance, Cassian stares at the laptop screen in front of him, the security camera feed grainy and eventless.

 

A mechanical hum fills the small space, steady and overwhelming in the deafening silence. His finger taps against the mouse in an even rhythm, again and again and again.

 

“Are you nervous?”

 

Jyn’s question startles him enough to send a jolt of electricity through his system. She'd been quiet for the last thirty minutes, sifting through files and the game plan repeatedly, thorough and meticulous in her own way.

 

She's messy and headstrong, but she doesn't make mistakes. 

 

The way she looks at him now, perched on a fold out chair at the back of the van, is one of curiosity. Her full lips are pursed, eyes alert. Beneath the collar of her shirt, her bullet proof vest peeks out.

 

“No,” he replies quickly, a little _too_ quickly and Jyn catches on. Her brows raise in doubt, and he sighs in defeat. “I mean- it's not the right word,” he continues in a weak attempt to correct himself. “I've done this a lot. It's never… easy.”

 

His eyes drift away from her and back to the security camera feed, the bar tucked away in a back alley and above an abandoned warehouse seemingly deserted. It's a facade, from the flickering sign to the old permit they'd uncovered.

 

All for show.

 

He should be used to it by now, Cassian thinks. Going undercover is something he excels at. Taking on a different role, hiding himself away, is easier than being himself and laying it out all in the open. There's no forgiveness to that, no comfort.

 

When he's someone else, then there is no room for doubt, for guilt, for insecurity.

 

Not until after the information is secured and the dust has settled.

 

But each time, there's a moment of hesitation, a moment where he allows himself to face the risks of what he is about to do. And each time, a minuscule fragment of himself is lost forever.

 

“Yeah, I didn't think routine would be a big part of it,” Jyn says quietly, her fingers twirling an old pen in circles. Cassian almost expects its to drop noisily to the metal-lined floor but it never does.

 

“Never,” he agrees, holding Jyn’s gaze for a moment too long until he clears his throat and looks away again.

 

Silence takes over, the kind of silence he, with anyone else, would have grown used to by now. But with Jyn he mourns each word that isn't passed between them because he feels like he _could_ know her, _wants_ to know her. Truly. It's deafening and defeating to hear nothing but the thrum of his own blood in his ears.

 

Instead of dwelling on things he can not seem to find a way to change, he focuses on the task ahead. He goes over the plan in his mind again and again although he knows each step, each word, each safety measure.

 

Today won't be a day of celebration, it won't be the day they finally capture Fett. But it's going to be a leap in the right direction, the infiltration vital to the progress of their investigation.

 

He needs to keep his head clear and do his job. Just the way he has always done. 

 

“It's almost time, we should put the wire on you,” Jyn says then, breaking the silence like a thunder rippling through the night. One glance at his watch tells him she's right. There's not much time left and they shouldn't get caught up on technicalities.

 

“Bodhi was going to-” Cassian starts, watching as Jyn pulls the wire from a box on the floor with nimble fingers. He sighs. “Wherever he is. All right.”

 

Bodhi had left earlier to grab something to eat, but they should have known he'd only get distracted. He is an efficient, dedicated cop, believes in his work even if he struggles to believe in himself sometimes. But he was the worst choice for the food run.

 

Jyn chuckles, clearly already familiar with Bodhi's sweet tooth. The van isn't high but she's so small that there's no danger of bumping her head. The boots she wears thud against the metal, steady steady steady until she stops in front of him.

 

Cassian rises from his chair, eyes drawn to the delicate way her fingers twirl around the device.

 

“Can you- you need to take it off.” The pause in Jyn’s voice surprises him a little, and it's not until she vaguely points at his shirt that he begins to understand why she faltered. 

 

He inwardly curses, fingers reluctantly starting to unbutton his shirt. With each button that comes undone, his heart rate picks up a little. It shouldn't matter to him, but to bare himself in front of her makes him feel more vulnerable than he had that night in the club.

 

When he reaches the last button and his shirt falls open, revealing the too pale expanse of his chest and stomach, he can't help but look at Jyn. It's masochistic but he can't stop himself, cannot draw his eyes away from the way she lingers and the way her eyes flicker down briefly.

 

The resolve she wears like armor crumbles as if she's haunted by the memories of that night they shared. She swallows deftly, her throat rising, and Cassian is quick to direct his gaze down towards his boots then.

 

He cannot get distracted.

 

He cannot dream of her, paint pictures of her in his mind.

 

She'd been clear.

 

_ This was... Let's not ruin it. _

 

When she walks up to him and crosses the last remaining distance, his body betrays him. A shudder runs down his spine when he feels the warmth of her radiating against his bare skin, and an avalanche of goosebumps erupts down the length of his arms when her fingers ghost over his chest.

 

The little sticker she attaches to his skin feels cold but his blood runs hot. Desperately, he tries to stare down at his feet and not up at her. At the hint of skin left exposed by her shirt, at the slope of her neck and the pale softness of her cheeks.

 

She's close enough that he can hear the hiss of each inhale, can feel the dampness of each exhale. It's quick, too quick, and he feels his abdomen tightening at the memory of her heady breaths against his skin that night.

 

His muscles jump when the finger of her splayed hand brushes against his stomach - almost too casual to be accidental but that must be his imagination. She smells sweet and crisp and against his better judgment, Cassian closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, allows her to fill his lungs.

 

It would be so easy to lean a mere few inches forward and press his lips to the line of her jaw, trail down her neck and taste the sweetness of her skin.

 

_Shit,_ he needs to get a grip. She's working quietly and efficiently and he should quiet his thoughts. Instead, his hands ball into fists by his side and his teeth clench as he tries to force the imagine of her, of them, from his mind.

 

Then, she's gone.

 

Takes two steps away from him and leaves him just as cold as she did once before. 

 

“Done.”

 

“Thanks,” he mutters, fingers stumbling in his haste to close his shirt again. It feels like static is buzzing between them, thick enough to cut with a blade.

 

The loud slide of the back door opening breaks it all apart, the tension in the air dissipating quickly. Moonlight floods the van for a brief moment as Bodhi climbs back inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

“I'm back, sorry,” he groans, a little out of breath as he sets down three cups of coffee and a box of sweet treats. Cookies, brownies, individual cake slices. Cassian hopes Jyn has an appetite because otherwise Bodhi will end up devouring it all by himself. “Massive line at Starbucks. Oh, you're done already.”

 

Bodhi looks a little surprised at the sight of the wire as Cassian finishes buttoning up his shirt, and an apologetic expression ghosts over his face.

 

Cassian just shrugs, throwing a glance towards Jyn for a brief moment.

 

“Let's get this over with.”

  
  
  


 

Cassian feels tired to the bone when he returns late into the night. Streetlights are notably absent here, the pale light of the moon guiding his way until he reaches the van. The stale taste of cheap beer lingers on his tongue, the thick and heady scent of smoke has settled into the fabric of his clothes.

 

His eyes burn, his back aches, but it's over.

 

For now.

 

For tonight.

 

“Good job, man,” Bodhi greets him, a victorious grin lighting up his features. Behind him, the screen still shows the footage of the security cameras, but just as before nothing happens. Static, grainy images that Cassian scans as he carefully removes the wire.

 

“Did you get it all?” he asks, setting the small device down on the desk next to the empty box of food - there's nothing left but a few cookie crumbs.

 

“Sure did,” Bodhi confirms. Cassian didn't think he'd be in such a good mood if the mission had been a failure, but too much depends on its success for him to not double check. “This is going to help a lot. I'm telling you, one more month and we're gonna nail this shitbag.”

 

With an exhausted sigh and a half-hearted nod, Cassian sinks down into a creaking, empty chair. It offers no comfort but at least it takes the strain off his legs.

 

“Where's Jyn?” he asks, rubbing his temples. The steady throb beneath his skin is driving him mad.

 

“She went out back with Kay a few minutes ago to check the perimeter,” Bodhi explains, eyes fixed on the screen as he starts to turn off the video feed. Their job here is done for the night. “Should be back soon.”

 

An irritating sense of calm settles over Cassian knowing that Jyn is out there with Kay. He has no doubt that she can protect herself, and from what he has seen she might be even more skilled than his partner in many aspects. But Kay is nothing if not observant and she'll be safe with him.

 

“She was worried about you, you know?” Bodhi's comment interrupts Cassian ever derailing train of thought, and it takes him a moment to process the words. The hint of a smirk on Bodhi's lips gives his intention away in an instant.

 

“ _You_ weren't?” Cassian replies with raised brows, crossing his arms in front of his chest to make a point. “Good to know.”

 

He is being hard on him but he's tired and has no patience for this now. Or ever. Perhaps being distant will suffocate the enthusiasm that's bubbling beneath Bodhi's calm exterior.

 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” he throws back, turning in his chair to face him and leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

 

“Actually I don't,” Cassian insists. This conversation needs to end before Bodhi digs too deep and uncovers details that must never see the light of day.

 

“She was worried about you,” he repeats, lower this time. “I've never seen her this tense before, she's like… so chill, all the time.”

 

Cassian scoffs, but the words settle in his mind and grow roots. Was she really that concerned? Does he mean enough to her that anything happening to him would affect her? 

 

“You haven't known her that long,” he says instead, dismissive and determined to change the subject. He pushes his unwilling body out of the chair, flinching as the feet scratch across the metal floor, and strides back towards the desk.

 

“Long enough to see that she's totally into you,” Bodhi continues, steering himself into a mess of proportions he's not even aware of.

 

“No, she's not,” Cassian insists a little too vehemently, reaching out past Bodhi to grab a file but his colleague has other ideas and squares his shoulders. “Let me look at that.”

 

“What's the matter with you?” Bodhi asks, his previously mischievous and teasing expression replaced by genuine bafflement. “She's hot.”

 

With a sigh, Cassian takes a step back. “Well, then maybe  _ you  _ should give it a go.” He doesn't mean to sound as gruff and harsh as he does and it's obvious that he's hurt Bodhi judging by the way he flinches and his shoulders deflate a little. But it's all too much to handle as it is and he does not need the added pressure of Bodhi playing matchmaker.

 

He's been trying for years to help push Cassian into whatever available arms they came across, never with much success. But he's persistent. Now, though, Cassian truly needs him to stay out of this for good.

 

“I'm just trying to help you out here,” he says in an attempt to defend himself, hands raised in mock surrender.

 

Cassian rolls his eyes, muttering a hollow _thanks_ before turning away. His heart jumps a little when the door of the van slides open, Kay and Jyn bathed in moonlight outside.

 

When Jyn spots him, returned and unharmed, there's a hint of relief that seems to wash over her, easy to see when their eyes meet.

 

Inside his chest, Cassian's heart stutters.

 


	5. and then I can tell myself not to ride along with you

“Detective Andor!“

 

Cassian startles as his name echoes through the deserted hallway of the police station. Pulled out of his daydream - he's so tired, so damn tired - he turns around, trying to locate the familiar sounding voice.

 

“Oh, Leia. Hey,“ he greets her. She's heading towards him, heels clicking against the old, cracked, stained concrete tiles, dark hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. “Is anything wrong?“

 

She catches up with him quickly, a smile curling her meticulous red lips, and she waves her hand dismissively. “No, no. Walk with me for a moment?“

 

“Sure,“ Cassian shrugs. He was heading in the same direction as her anyway. Something must be on Leia's mind though, and for a few steps he waits, pondering whatever it is she might have to say to him now that could not wait until tomorrow's scheduled briefing on the Fett case.

 

He doesn't have to wait long for an answer.

 

“So, how is Jyn settling in?“ Leia asks, and Cassian just barely stops himself from raising his brows. As far as he knows, Jyn and Leia are old acquaintances who know each other through their fathers' respective work in the government. If she had any questions about her friend's progress here, Leia could simply have gone directly to Jyn. There is a reason she chose to come to him instead.

 

“She's… She's doing good,“ Cassian replies, and it's not a lie - far from it. “We really needed the help.“

 

Leia nods, seemingly content with that reply. There is a grace and delicacy to her that form a stark contrast to her fervor and determination, and it's always fascinated Cassian.

 

“You're making progress, Draven seems happier these days.“ They both chuckle as they head down the long stairs. Draven is hardly the embodiment of joy, even these days. When their laughter fades and gives way to the echo of their steps, Leia speaks again, more somber this time. “You, on the other hand, do not.“

 

The words catch Cassian completely off guard. “What are you talking about?“

 

Pursing her lips, Leia beings to explain. “You walk around looking like someone forced you to drink sour milk this morning, Cassian. People are starting to talk.“

 

“I'm not- Who said that?“ he asks, trying to think of any instances he might have let his – admittedly - sour mood bleed into a conversation or his work. No matter how hard he tries, though, he comes up helplessly empty. 

 

Leia shrugs with the ghost of mischief haunting her eyes. “I know things.“ Her words are ominous at best and downright confusing at worst. They're both quiet for a moment when a small group of rookies passes them, their thundering steps and boisterous laughter trailing past them. “Anyway, that's none of my business. I do have a suggestion, though.“ Cassian raises his eyebrows - he already knows nothing good can come of this. “Jyn is single, you know?“

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

“And this is important why exactly?“ he continues, his voice dry and his face set in stone. 

 

Leia doesn't buy it, of course she doesn't.

 

“Come on, you're not really that dull, Cassian,“ she says intently, sounding almost offended. “Jyn is looking miserable too. Not that I know either of you to do the happy dance down the hall, but I can't stand this any longer. I'm trying to help you both out here.“

 

“By doing what exactly?“

 

He has to tread carefully here. Leia outranks him and could set his entire career on fire with the bat of her lashes if she wanted to. There's no mean bone in her body and she'd never do that to him, but there's a line he cannot cross, no matter how friendly they may be.

 

She doesn't seem at all deterred by his undeniably foul mood. Just as always, her shoulders are squared and her soft face hardened by determination.

 

“I'm throwing a dinner next week,” she states almost matter-of-factly, like he did not just say what he said. “You're both invited. I have a feeling you both need to blow off some steam.”

 

The fact that she's implying they blow off that steam together makes him wonder just how much Leia _truly_ knows. There's a hint of a grin in her eyes when they stop in front of the cantina, her arms crossing in front of her chest. Subconsciously, Cassian mirrors her, digging his fingers into his arms a little too hard.

 

“Thanks, but I'm busy,” he declines.

 

“Busy sulking?”

 

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks over Leia's shoulder into the crowded cantina. They have lasagna today and he's been looking forward to that all week, but suddenly he feels sick instead of hungry. “Just busy,” he repeats, a little colder this time. “And I'm sure Jyn can find someone else to blow off steam with,” he continues, not even pretending to not understand what Leia is insinuating with her offer. If only she knew... “Anything else?”

 

Leia looks more than a little unimpressed with how this conversation progressed, lips pursed and her eyes a little narrowed. Any other day, the sight would send a rush of panic through his veins. But not today. Today, his flight instinct far exceeds his will to fight.

 

“No,” she mutters eventually, but Cassian is certain she will not surrender so easily. He has not heard the last of this.

 

“Have a good day then.” He is quick to turn on his heels before the words have even completely passed his lips, heading back up the stairs. Ignoring the growl of his stomach and the thunderous murmur of too many conversations being held all at once.

 

There's a candy bar somewhere in his desk.

 

That will have to do.

 

* * *

 

“I don't get why you can't do it, it's _always_ you.” The frustration drips from Cassian’s voice like raindrops from a roof, hands balled into white-knuckled fists on his desk.

 

Kay doesn't seem deterred. It's dark outside already, the night sky outside covered in clouds, hiding the stars and the moon away. In the milky glow of the outdated and dusty table lamps, Kay looks like someone out of a different era. Sophisticated and stiff, determined and proud.

 

“I am confident Detective Erso will do the task with the utmost attention, you shouldn't worry about that,” he assures Cassian, carefully packing his empty metal lunch box back into his bag made from polished black leather. “I have other commitments.”

 

Cassian nervously chews the inside of his cheek. In his peripheral vision, he catches a glimpse of Jyn, arms crossed defiantly on front of her chest. From her posture alone he can tell that he offended her with what his reluctance to go on a stake out with her has implied. He doesn't think, not even a fragment, that she is incapable or unreliable or anything of the sort. 

 

“That's not what I'm worried about, Kay,” he says, hoping that she'll believe him even if he doesn't direct his veiled apology directly at her. “It's just- It's-”

 

The thought of being stuck in a car with her all night long makes his skin feel tight and his temples throb. So far, they've barely been alone together, and he's grateful for that. With other people around it's much, much easier to pretend. Alone, they're faced with the weight of what they've done.

 

Kay purses his lips, eyebrows raised. For a moment, his gaze travels between Jyn and Cassian, before he puts his bag down on his desk with a slightly overdramatic sigh.

 

“Is this reluctant behavior due to the fact that you and Detective Erso have engaged in sexual intercourse?”

 

The words are shrill like sirens in Cassian's ears, although they are spoken calmly and quietly. Not a lot of people are around, most of them on the phone or half asleep on their desks, but even so Kay has been cautious to keep his voice down.

 

“ _What?_ ” Cassian spits out after the wheels in his head begin to turn again, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

 

“You _told_ him?” Jyn hisses in disbelief, taking a step closer, and when he looks at her there is fire and disappointment in her sharp green eyes. 

 

Of course he did not, the thought never even occurred to him. There are people out there who would have felt the need to talk about what happened and how it affected them, but he's never been that person. All the pain and insecurities, all doubt and fear he's ever felt, he kept to himself. Rarely does he allow any of it to bleed through or spill from his lips in a drunken, hopeless confession.

 

He stutters at her, heart pounding a brutal beat against his ribs.

 

“No, but you just confirmed my suspicion. It was not a challenging deduction to make.” Kay interrupts the loaded silence. There's no judgment in his eyes, but a stern expression has settled into every line and shadow on his face. “I have no interest in your extracurricular activities, but I should be right to expect them not to further affect our work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make.”

 

Without another word, Kay grabs his bag and phone and heads towards the pale glass door to the hallway, every step precise. His words echo between them, only interrupted by the steady and loud hum of Cassian’s computer.

 

“How does he-” Jyn starts, forehead in creases. “Why the fuck does he have to call it _intercourse_?”

 

It takes Cassian a good five seconds to comprehend her words.

 

“Really? _That's_ what you're worried about here?” he fires at her, his words muttered and thin-lipped to keep the conversation as private as it can be in the very last place he wants to be discussing this. 

 

Nobody pays attention to them, but right now, he feels like someone arranged both of them on a serving platter for everyone else to stare at, judge, and ridicule.

 

Jyn’s face hardens noticeably, making him pause. The way her lips purse and her arms cross in front of her chest - she looks offended again. Perhaps she believes that he feels shame about what they did, that he’d be flushed with embarrassment if their coworkers ever found out, that he wishes she had been someone else.

 

None of that is true and the painful skip of his own heartbeat is proof of that. Invisible proof that goes unnoticed by Jyn. He can't voice any of it, though, not without risking everything they both believe in and work so hard for.

 

“I doubt he's going to gossip about it at lunch so _yes_ , that's my main concern here,” she spits, and suddenly the calm and collected act they’ve been playing for weeks cracks and crumbles between them.

 

Cassian can almost feel himself choking on the ashes.

 

“Good for you,” he mutters, pushing past her and towards the back of the station. His footsteps echo, and he doesn’t look back.   
  


 

* * *

  
  


The sterile, signature scent of the hospital only drives Cassian further to the edge of nausea. His vision blurs - while tiles and pale blue walls merging into one, his mud-caked boots leaving a trail behind that he follows again and again like a mad dog. 

 

Every bone in his body hurts, his eyelids are heavy with fatigue, and his knuckles ache where they are red and raw, the blood beginning to scab.

 

“Will you sit down? You're driving me mad,” Jyn murmurs, sitting on one of the white plastic chairs pushed against the wall. Her head is heavy in her hand, most of her hair loose from the tight bun at the back. Slick with sweat, frizzy from the rain.

 

There’s blood on her cheek.

 

The urge to use his thumb to clear it from the pale of her skin contradicts the anger in his voice when he speaks again.

 

“Sorry that's an inconvenience to you,” he hisses, not stopping his pacing, only slowing down a little bit. If anything, it makes the soles of his feet ache more. His anger isn’t directed at Jyn, not even an ounce of it. None of this is her fault, she has done nothing wrong.

 

No.

 

“ Doesn't sound all that sincere,” she replies, looking up at him, hands balled into fists against her thighs. Nothing between them is simple, it never has been, but he can’t  _ pretend _ , not now when Bodhi and Kay are both in surgery, not when doctors are digging bullets and shrapnel out of them.

 

_Fuck._ There’s blood still coating his hands, sinking deep into the fine lines of his palm. Blood that is not his own.

 

He stops right in front of her, every breath he forces himself to take an almost unbearable labor.

 

“How is that important now?” he hollers, but Jyn’s face remains unaffected. “They're hurt because I screwed up!”

 

The doctors had told them that Bodhi and Kay were both stable before they went into surgery, neither of them are fighting for their lives. But they might as well be. A second too soon, a second too late. A shot fired an inch to the left or an inch to the right and they could be waiting in the morgue instead.

 

The sound of the explosion still rings in Cassian's ears, the echo dull and throbbing behind his temples. His back is sore where he hit the concrete, and he can already feel the bruises begin to form like spilled paint.

 

In the aftermath, the gunshots started.

 

A trap.

 

Again and again they tore through the night and his fingers had slipped on his gun, vision blurred and limbs numb, when he saw Bodhi fall to the ground.

 

Jyn’s scream was deafening, was-

 

“Cassian, you didn't-” she tries to reassure him now, her voice so much softer. But she's so wrong.

 

“Yes, I did!” he interrupts her. Just the thought of her trying to lift the blame from his shoulders makes him want to punch a hole in the wall. It was his call to infiltrate the bar, and clearly his assessment of the situation had been wrong. “I should have known it was too easy. I should have-”

 

Suddenly, she's right in front of him. Quick, efficient, a surprise. Her hand - it trembles even now - finds his arm, burns right through the thick fabric of his now ruined coat.

 

“Hey, calm down.” Her words are spoken quietly and with an aura of calm to them that's almost contagious. He wants to let himself fall and feel that, wants her to tell him that everything will be fine.

 

But nothing in this world is ever fine.

 

It's just another pretty lie.

 

“Leave it!” he spits, hastily shrugging his shoulders until her hands fall away. “Just- just leave me alone.”

 

He turns away from her again, biting back the bitter sting of tears he refuses to shed. Tears born from anger and frustration.

 

“It could have happened to anyone, you couldn't have known,” she presses on, and he can feel her approaching again, a shudder running down his spine and she must know, she just _must_ know that he'll crumble if she touches him again. He's not strong enough to fight her.

 

“ But I  _ should  _ have, I should have-” he stutters, choking on his every breath. What drives him to face her again, he does not know. His body moves against his will, and she's right there. So small, so fragile - except he knows she's anything but that. “They could have been killed!” 

 

The images flash through his mind mercilessly, all the what ifs replaying and keeping him disconnected from the here and now where they are all safe. “ _You_ could have been-” he adds, his voice somber and faltering. “ _Shit_.”

 

Jyn - brave and marvelous and - _shit,_ how did he ever go a day without her - lifts her hand, rests it against his cheek. The skin there is flaming hot, and he falls apart.

 

With a sigh, he leans into her, allows his eyes to flutter shut.

 

“Cassian-” she breathes, hoarse and filled with that same sadness, that same aura of melancholy, that he tasted on her lips that night.

 

It's the same kind of magnetic pull that draws them together. In the empty space between them, it pulses, steady and strong, until his forehead rests against hers. She's so much shorter than him that his neck aches but he pushes that pain to the back of his mind.

 

“Don't,” he whispers, feeling the warmth of her breath ghost across his lips and cheeks. “Please don't.” Hearing her repeat that he made no mistake, hearing every other pretty lie pass her lips - he doesn't want to be angry anymore.

 

_ God _ , she's close. So close. Her free hand lifts between them, palm pressing against his chest. Warm and soothing, calming the rapid-fire beating of his heart. Beneath his own palm that has slid down to the side of her neck, he can feel her pulse. Alive. She's alive.

 

It's weakness and despair that forces him to open his eyes. All this time, he has tried to convince himself that he does not crave this. Her. 

 

But he does.

 

_ Shit, he does. _

 

He can count the freckles on her nose and cheeks, can make out the shadows cast by the long curve of her eyelashes. There are circles under her eyes and a bit of smudged eyeliner at the corner. She wore chapstick earlier, tinted a slight red - almost like she ate a bowl of cherries. It's mostly faded now.

 

He wonders if he could still taste it.

 

Her eyes are open and filled with an unspoken question as they flicker down to his lips. The tip of her nose nudges his, gently and inviting but not demanding.

 

Just an inch, nothing more. A tilt of his head and they'd doom themselves. One more kiss, and there'd be no going back for him, no pretending.

 

The way her fingers curl into his shirt has him hoping that she feels the same. Hoping that she remembers his touch the way he remembers hers. Hoping that she wonders the way he wonders. Late at night with nothing to keep him company but his wandering thoughts.

 

Her eyes flutter shut with a heavy exhale. Even now she tastes like smoke and gunfire, like gasoline and sweat.

 

But deep down, he knows he'll find nothing but  _ her _ .

 

“Detectives?”

 

Jyn’s lips have barely grazed his when the voice tears through the silence of the hall. They all but jump apart, Cassian's heart skipping a beat and his stomach turning inside out.

 

Catching his breath, he sees the doctor approaching them, a clipboard held up against his chest. There's no judgment to be found in the deep lines on his face.

 

“How are they?” Cassian gasps, scrambling for any semblance of control over his voice when in his periphery, he can see Jyn. Slightly flushed and with her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

 

They're lost after all, both of them.

 

At least he knows that now.

 


	6. when the night was full of terrors; and your eyes were filled with tears

The silence between them is painfully deafening.

 

Hidden in the shadows beneath a broken streetlight, their car has become their own prison cell. Cassian’s eyes, long adjusted to the darkness, are pointed straight ahead to the warehouse across the street. Deserted, abandoned, falling apart. For years, nobody has claimed ownership, money trails leading nowhere.

 

With a sigh, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel. One glance at his watch tells him it’s been four hours of silence by now, of staring into the shadows of the night. His coffee is gone by now, and what little remains at the bottom of the plastic cup has gone cold. On cue, his stomach growls quietly, reminded of the last crumbs of a ham and cheese sandwich - the paper bag crumpled on the floor of the car until he can dispose of it properly.

 

Kay would have already taken care of it.

 

But Kay is still in the hospital. Recovering and, mostly, elaborately complaining about recovering.

 

Jyn is staring out into the night, her face motionless and set in stone. She hasn’t said a word all night after they positioned themselves. Nothing.

 

It’s been four days since the hospital and Cassian still shivers when he remembers the ghost of her kiss. It’s all that’s been on his mind whenever he allowed himself a moment to be quiet and to ignore his guilt, his fear, his determination to finally nail down Fett once and for all. They haven’t talked about it. Instead, it’s been nothing but loaded silence.

 

And he can’t stand it any longer.

 

“Are you okay?” His voice sounds hoarse from being quiet for so long, and he has to clear his throat before the last syllable has even passed his lips. Chancing a glance at Jyn, he hopes he did not cross a line by daring to address the elephant in the room.

 

“What?” Jyn asks, brows furrowed. She’s got her legs tucked beneath her on the passenger seat, dried mud leaving behind dusty remnants against the worn, black fabric. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

He shrugs pathetically. It was a stupid question and he should have just kept his damn mouth shut. But he has picked up the conversation now and the thought of spending the rest of the night in silence makes him squirm in his seat. Shit, even his ass cheeks have gone numb already. ”I don’t know. It’s just- It’s been a lot lately.”

 

It seems unlikely Jyn imagined her new job, her new life, this way.

 

She turns away from him, resting her temple against the window. A few seconds pass by in utter silence except for the shrill cry of a bird somewhere in the distance.

 

“You know, sometimes I wonder if anyone is ever really _okay_ ,” she murmurs, and the sadness that is laced into her words is contagious. Cassian’s fingers itch with the need to reach out and comfort her the way she had done so easily for him, but he doubts his touch would have the same effect.

 

“I guess not,” he agrees with a slow nod, the truth of it hitting a little close to home. Even when life was fine he seldom felt okay.

 

“They’ll be all right.” Jyn’s voice has gone gentle and soft, and when she reaches out her hand to briefly squeeze his arm, Cassian wonders if he dozed off and is wandering through a dream. “Bodhi and Kay,” she adds, dropping her hand back into her lap. For a moment, she hesitates, and Cassian waits patiently for every word she has to say. “We’ll be all right.”

 

The short, two-letter word sparks his attention.

 

“ _We?”_ he repeats, and surely his eyes are full of surprise. They might be partners now until Bodhi and Kay have recovered. A temporary unit. Nothing meant to last. But he had not dared to think of the two of them as a pair, as one. And it takes him off guard that Jyn apparently does.

 

She startles a little, looking for a second like a little girl caught with her hand in the biscuit jar. The pale hands in her lap knead nervously, and she looks down between them instead of facing him.

 

“Cassian-” she begins, and he can already hear her retraction in his mind, her apologies and excuses and they won't get them anywhere. What they need is the unflinching truth out on the table between them - if only either of them was brave enough to voice it.

 

“Look, I know this is all- _shit_ ,” he mutters, rubbing his palms over his tired, swollen eyes. “I know I shouldn’t feel the way I do. That we shouldn’t be having this conversation-”

 

“Why not?” Jyn interrupts him, and just like that, with no more than an innocent bat of her lashes and a crease in her forehead, Cassian wonders if it wouldn't be better to fuck all these rules he implemented for them in his mind. It's his fears that hold them back. Perhaps Jyn’s fears, too, which he can so often see reflected in her eyes.

 

They might be more alike than either of them is willing or ready to admit.

 

“Jyn-” he starts, terrified to the bone where this road might take them if they - if he - allowed them to take a first cautious step. He has never dared to open his heart to another person, has always put his work as his first priority. Changing that now, for her… Shit, he's trembling with the adrenaline that rushes through his veins.

 

Jyn is quick to silence him and smother every word of doubt and reason ready to spill from his lips with stern melancholy.

 

“No,” she spits, her arms crossing defiantly and determinedly in front of her chest. There's a deep carve in her forehead and it makes Cassian's heart ache to think he put it there. “It sucks! This? _Us?_ It sucks and I hate it.” The anger in her voice appears feeble when her voice begins to tremble and crack under the weight of all the words neither of them have spoken. “So say whatever you want to say and say it now. Or just-”

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Cassian interrupts her, defeated but encouraged all the same. It's the truth, he really does not know how to put into words the way she makes him feel and has wormed her way into his every waking thought and his dreams alike.

 

But Jyn is just as wrecked, just as lost as him, and that must mean something.

 

“I don't know how,” he confesses in a whisper, and before Jyn can say another word, he does what he has longed to do all this time. Gently, he reaches out for her, the palm of his hand - clammy and cold - finding the side of her neck. Beneath the flushed skin he can feel the quickening of her pulse. Just barely, his thumb grazes the line of her jaw.

 

He can't tell her in words, but he can _show_ her.

 

Mercifully, Jyn understands, all other anger-fueled words turning to ash in her mouth as her lips part with a silent gasp. Barely a second passes before she leans into him, before she shifts forward across the handbrake and stick shift to invade his space.

 

There is nothing apologetic, nothing accidental about it when she curls her hands around his neck and ever so slightly, almost shyly, draws the blunt of her nails against his skin. The shudder that wrecks his body wrenches a sigh from Cassian’s lips that sounds much alike her name.

 

This time when their lips meet, he wants it to mean something, to be the beginning of something new. Hope simmers eagerly in his veins when he cups her cheek and tilts his head. With a heavy thud of his heart, he allows his eyes to flutter shut, the last thing he sees being the softness of Jyn’s expression. It’s the paleness of her skin and the green of her eyes that are burned permanently into his vision, lightening his world even in the darkness.

 

Her breath is warm against his lips, the faint scent of coffee strong between them-

 

And then she pulls away with a sharp breath. “Wait!”

 

His heart falls just as his hand lands limply in his lap, and he knows that this is the final nail in the coffin, that there will not be another chance for them. If Jyn had any doubts left, then they are the kind that cannot be erased, cannot be pushed to the back of her mind. “I’m so-,” he begins, feeling shame like acid burning through his veins. All he wants is to bolt, to get out of the suddenly too tight space.

 

But Jyn interrupts him, scrambling back into her own seat.

 

“No, look!”

 

Confusion rattles him for a moment but when he follows Jyn’s pointed finger out the windshield and to the warehouse across the street, everything suddenly makes sense. His body goes rigid, adrenaline pumping through his veins, keeping him on edge. From this distance, he can not make out a face, but the shadowed figure slipping into the warehouse must be Fett.

 

This time, they have to be right.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing his gun and opening the door. “Call for backup.”

 

He barely has a foot down on the street, the slightly cool night air lapping at his skin, when Jyn’s hand grabs his arm tightly, causing him to pause. “Wait, you’re _not_ going alone,” she insists with fire in her eyes. Cassian has to bite back a chuckle because even if he wanted to leave her behind he’d be a fool for thinking he’d have any power over her.

 

“Of course not,” he explains, and her hand softens against his arm. “Still. Call for backup.”

 

 

 

The warehouse is dark and the air stale. Every breath tastes of dust and decay. Cassian’s fingers are tight and steady around his gun as he and Jyn take quick, silent steps down a narrow hallway. The concrete floor swallows the sounds of their feet, the metal walls threatening to echo with even the ragged rhythm of their breaths.

 

The sole source of light is the paleness of the moon shining through slit-like windows high up above them, but he can feel his eyes adjusting quickly. With every step, the sound of someone moving something heavy grows louder, and when they reach a corner, Cassian holds out his arm.

 

Jyn freezes, looking up at him with sternness and determination in her eyes. He nods at her, grabs his gun a little tighter, before they move around the corner.

 

“Police! Freeze,” he shouts, and the man that turns to face them looks wide-eyed with shock for just the briefest second. “Fett,” Cassian says spitefully, seeing the man in the flesh for the first time. Tall and dark-haired, eyes sharp. There are metal crates stacked up against the wall, no doubt filled with tools and weapons more varied than the simple gun he holds in his hand.

 

“Detectives Andor and Erso,” Fett says, his voice calm. Too calm, calm enough to make the hairs on the back of Cassian’s neck rise. He grabs his gun tighter, aims for Fett’s head. “What a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

“Drop the weapon,” Cassian spits, all the anger and stress, all the hard work of the last few months, coming to a boil.

 

Fett smirks.

 

“Seems unfair, considering you’re pointing yours straight at me,” he says with raised brows. Next to him, Cassian feels Jyn move and take a step forward.

 

“ _Drop_ it!” she hisses, pure venom in her voice, strong enough for Cassian to feel a little intimidated.

 

But Fett doesn’t move an inch. Shooting him now, though, would ruin months of their work, could mean that in the end, Fett might get away with everything he has done.

 

“What are you trying to achieve here, detectives?” he asks, standing his ground. “You have nothing on me.“ The sheer confidence in his voice, despite having walked straight into their trap, only reminds Cassian that this case will stand or fall depending on Fett. The case is strong but it is not without flaws, not without gaps that need filling.

 

“You have no idea what we have on you,” Jyn mutters, her own weapon aimed straight at Fett.

 

Cassian’s heart pounds, his mind spinning trying to figure out a way to dissolve the situation. Take out Fett and let the case crumble. Disable him and risk harm to come to Jyn or himself. Stall and play with Fett’s pride long enough for backup to arrive.

 

In the end, Fett takes the decision out of his hands.

 

“Then you should know this isn’t usually my style,” he states calmly, and then everything happens so fast that Cassian is nearly hit with vertigo. Fett raises his arm and takes aim before Cassian can even take his next breath, and the sound of a gun firing echoes from the metal walls so loudly that Cassian’s ears ring and he feels as if the bullet hit him.

 

But it didn’t.

 

It’s Jyn who stumbles to the ground next to him with a surprised grunt.

 

“Jyn! _NO!”_ Cassian shouts, panic moving his body forward unnaturally fast. He falls to his knees by her side, barely registering the dull pain of the impact, just as he sees Fett pushing through a red metal door at the back of the hallway. It doesn’t matter to him now.

 

Jyn whimpers when he moves his hands down her torso to where blood is spilling from her abdomen. Too much of it, right below where her vest could not protect her.

 

A clean shot, precisely aimed.

 

“Stay still, I got you,” Cassian murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears and trembling with panic as he presses his hand to the wound. But the bullet went straight through and he can see the blood beginning to pool beneath her. Warm as it spills across his fingers. “Let me just- fuck,” he chokes, pressing harder and harder until Jyn groans in pain.

 

“Go, Cassian,” she breathes, lifting her hand to his wrist and beginning to pull it away. “Go.”

 

It’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

 

“No, I’m not leaving you here,” he insists, trying to keep his voice steady and not frighten her, but he’s failing at that just like he’s failing at everything else. Jyn, however, is insistent, pulling at his hand with all the strength she has left.

 

“Go. Get him, or it’ll all be for nothing,” she says with an edge of blame that hits him right in the heart. But she softens quickly, melting into the concrete floor. “Please,” she begs and he can’t stand the sound of it, the sight of her.

 

She’s right.

 

Fett walked into their trap this once, he will not do it a second time. After tonight, they have played all their cards and all the work they have done will crumble. Fett will get away with it all.

 

But he knows, deep down, that if he leaves her now she might not- No, he can’t think of that. Can’t think of returning to her empty-handed either.

 

“Help’s coming, okay?” He cradles her face in his blood-stained hands, leans down to press an almost violent kiss to her forehead. “You’ll be fine.”

 

She smiles weakly.

 

“Go.”

 

He grabs his gun and runs. Runs faster than he ever has in his life. Runs until he can barely breathe anymore.  


 

 

 

 

Cassian’s thighs scream from exertion as he storms down the hallway, every step echoing against the metal walls. The keys to the handcuffs cling with every hurried step, a sharp and unpleasant sound that rings in his ears but he pays it no mind. Neither does he take note of the ache in his wrist from the slight kickback of his gun when he had fired it at Fett.

 

One precise shot in the ankle and Fett had gone down screaming, cursing, scrambling for his gun but Cassian had kicked it far away across the concrete floor.

 

They have him.

 

It’s over.

 

But he feels no triumph, no relief, no joy.

 

With a groan, Cassian pushes open the red door. The light of the moon grows dull with incoming clouds, the threat of rain looming as he stumbles to the ground next to Jyn. Her eyes are closed, her skin paler than usual. One hand lays limply by her side, the other covers the bullet wound in her abdomen uselessly.

 

“ _Jyn!”_ he calls, desperate as he presses his fingers to her neck to feel for her pulse. It’s there, weak and slow, too slow. “Jyn, wake up!” The tears he’d fought so hard to hold back before now well in his eyes, blurring his vision. Whimpering her name, he lifts her off the cold ground and rests her head in his lap, cradles her to him. She feels so cold. “Please.”

 

Jyn’s eyes move behind closed lids, back and forth in search of his voice. A soft, exhausted breath escapes from her parted lips.

 

“I’m here,” she whispers, breathless and hoarse. Slowly, achingly so, her eyes flicker open but she struggles to keep them that way. Her gaze is hazy as she tries to focus on him, and Cassian leans down, pulls her a little tighter into his embrace. “You came back for me.”

 

Her voice, despite the exhaustion, is full of wonder and surprise.

 

Cassian can’t believe she ever doubted him.

 

“Of course I did,” he chokes, smoothing his palm across her cheek where her own blood has begun to dry. A faint smile curls her lips, the ghost of happier times.

 

“Did you get him?” she asks, a cough more than anything else. When he nods, some tension seems to ease from her body and she grows heavier in is arms. “Good.”

 

Cassian’s hand moves down to her own covering her wound, trying to push it away and apply a decent amount of pressure. It’s most likely useless by now but he won’t give up on her, not while there’s still a chance.

 

But Jyn shakes her head, weakly lifts her hand in a futile attempt to stop him. “Leave it.”

 

“No way,” he insists, pressing down on the wound until she flinches with pain. “No.” In the distance, sirens begin to blast through the night, shrill but so very welcome right now. “Do you hear that?” he murmurs, leaning down until he can feel the warmth of each slow breath Jyn takes against his dampened skin. Tears and sweat mingling as he holds on to her so tightly. “Someone’s coming. You’re going to be fine.”

 

She mutters something incoherent, repeats it when Cassian frowns and leans down further but he still can not make it out. The sirens grow louder and louder, approaching them fast.

 

“What?” he asks softly, raking his fingers through her hair behind her ear, anything to keep her calm, to ease the pain.

 

“What did you want to say?” she asks then, clearer than before. “Before.”

 

It takes Cassian a few seconds to comprehend what she meant and what “before” she is referring to. When it all clears in his mind and the memories return, he smiles at her with all the honesty he can muster.

 

“This,” he whispers as the sound of metal crashing against concrete shoots through the air and makes his heart jump. What little space remains between them, he finally breaches it. Gently, he presses his lips to hers, cradles her body closer to his until there’s not an inch of her he can not feel. It’s barely a kiss, just a whisper and a promise of more.

 

He pulls away when he feels her lips curling into a smile against his own, when footsteps thunder towards them.

 

“Detectives?” Someone shouts, the sound echoing along the walls. Cassian rises up, watching as the shadows and the cast of flashlights approach them around the corner.

 

“We’re here,” he calls back, and a second later the reinforcement rounds the corner. “Help her,” he begs, and one of the men falls to his knees by their side. “Please. Fett, he’s- he’s back there.” Cassian points to the red door and the man gives a silent command to his colleagues. They move quickly, guns aimed. “He’s out,” Cassian explains further, tossing one of the men the keys to the handcuffs he’d used to cuff Fett to a row of pipes.

 

The man catches them with a nod and then it’s just them left. “Jyn-,” Cassian pleads, her eyes heavy and unfocused.

 

A large hand rests on Cassian’s shoulder, and when he looks up his colleagues features are full of withheld concern.

 

“We’ll take care of her,” he promises, the sound of an ambulance approaching in the distance suddenly like the sweetest song Cassian has ever heard.

  


  


In the ambulance the smell is too sterile and the lights are too bright. Jyn’s eyes are squeezed shut where she’s resting on a stretcher, and the grayish hue of her skin makes Cassian sick.

 

Her hand is weak and limp in his own, sticky with her own blood.

 

“Cassian…,” she breathes, searching for him in her darkness. The engine stutters and roars to life between them, and Cassian has to hold on a little tighter not to fall over. Behind him, one of the paramedics curls a steadying hand around his arm.

 

“ _Shh,”_ he murmurs, leaning down so Jyn can hear him _._ Her breath is unsteady against his cheek, and when he presses his forehead to her brow he can hear just how shallow they are. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere,” he promises, clutching her hand tighter. Gently, he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose, not caring that the medics can see them. It’s not their business, it’s nobody’s business but their own. “You’ll be fine. We’ll start over, you and I.”

 

Fate threw them together in all the wrongs ways and they missed all the right steps, stumbled and fell again and again. But they have a chance now to try again and do it better, he has to believe in that.

 

Jyn sighs, a delicate sound that curls his lips into a tear-stained smile. “That sounds nice,” she breathes, and although he should have expected nothing but her agreement, it feels surreal and like a luxury knowing she feels the same.

 

“Jyn-,” he starts, moving back a little to meet her gaze and promise her to try, to make an effort, to tell her how much she means to him but her eyes are still closed and her breath has gone quiet. “Jyn!”

 

Suddenly, it feels as if someone has yanked the ground from beneath his feet. Everything moves too fast around him. “Move, move!” someone shouts before pushing him out of the way. He loses his footing, clutches the wall of the ambulance for leverage.

 

Against the metal, he can feel the heat of Jyn’s blood that still coats his hands.

 

They move over her in a frenzy, and all Cassian can do is watch wide-eyed as they tear and probe and shove her around. Words mingle with the rumble of the engine, the beginning of rain drumming against the roof, and the ringing in Cassian’s ears.

 

_bloodloss. cpr. organ failure. too late. too much._

 

When they begin to push on her chest in a quick and forceful rhythm, Cassian feels himself falling apart. Like he’s suddenly looking at himself, his soul separated from his body. Like _he_ is the one dying, like it’s _his_ ribs that are breaking with a sickening crack. He watches, frozen, watches her and himself and the medics.

 

The scream of her name that tears from his throat, begging and full of grief, goes unheard.

 

_Jyn!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out [my lovely beta's Tumblr](https://stardust425.tumblr.com/) for some really amazing moodboards which she made for this story! She's the best ❤


	7. take me back to the night we met

** three years later: **

 

The vastness of the city as it spreads out in front of him, as it surrounds him, makes Cassian feel small. Neatly, it unravels in bright buildings weathered from the passing of time, but from up here in the powder blue sky, they look untouched and almost regal. Splashes of green from tucked away parks hide in between, the river beneath circling through the old city like veins across the paleness of a delicate wrist.

 

Cassian curls his fingers around the metal bar that holds him back. It makes sense. Never has he felt this overwhelmed, never has he felt this unbearably  _ alive _ . Simply allowing himself to fall and the city to catch him seems like an almost tempting thought.

 

The muffled sound of the traffic in the distance, of the people roaming the city, fills the clear spring air, mingles effortlessly with the awed and excited chatter of everyone else up here. They are pressed up as close as possible to the view that unfolds before them, priceless and unique. Taking pictures, posting updates, breathing in the absolute breathlessness of a moment like this. 

 

_ God _ , he feels small. High above a city of millions, Cassian understands properly and for the first time in his life, what loneliness truly means. And to think he once believed himself to be a tried and tested expect on the subject.

 

It’s the kind of view, the kind of joy, to be shared with someone you love. No postcards or panorama views online could ever compare, no words could ever encapsulate the way he feels right now.

 

He startles a little when someone walks up to him, a bare arm brushing his own.

 

The wind sends her dark hair flying, loose strands tickling the side of Cassian’s neck when he looks down at her beaming smile, brighter than the spring sun etched up onto the sky.

 

“You startled me,” he murmurs with a twitch at the corners of his mouth, wrapping his arm around her. She easily sinks into his side, fitting there like a key in a lock.

 

“Never seen someone lost in thought like that,” she replies with a smirk that he can hear in the timbre of her voice, although it is hidden there subtly. Gently, he steers her in front of him, her back pressed to his chest. 

 

“It’s beautiful,” he whispers, watching the city that spreads on like a painting, Jyn’s hair and the fresh scent of her shampoo completing the perfection of the moment. Contentment fills his heart and lungs to the point he fears they might burst. 

 

“It really is,” Jyn breathes, leaning back into him and entangling her arms with his where he has them wrapped securely around her middle. The smooth yellow cotton of her sundress feels soft against his always too-rough skin, but the white buttons are leaving the faintest indents behind. ”I’m glad we came here.”

 

Cassian chuckles. “Not a big fan of broken promises.”

 

Jyn’s laugh is quiet and barely audible, just a wisp of her breath that assures him she remembers that night as clearly as he does. When she had one last plea for him before she walked away, back when he thought he’d never see her again.

 

Even now it’s impossible to believe that their roads crossed again and he has her in his arms today.

 

He never wants it to change.

 

Surely, Jyn must feel the increase of his heartbeats against her shoulder blades. It’s hammering in his chest when Cassian rests his cheek against the side of her head. She’s so much shorter than him that his neck aches a little from the awkward position but he pays no attention to that.

 

All he feels is the silkiness of her hair against the dark shadow of his beard, and the delicacy of her fingertips ghosting over his bare arm. Back and forth in senseless patterns. Glancing down, he watches the sun reflecting in the bright coral of her nail polish. 

 

It’s perfect, this moment.

 

His life.

 

“Marry me,” he whispers, the two words nearly lost among the wind and the laughter and the bustle beneath them. It’s all the sound that fills the air for a few breathless, infinite seconds.

 

Jyn’s fingers grow still against his arm, and the surprised gasp that she sucks in has him worrying for a brief second. But then she interlaces her fingers with his own like a tree growing roots into the earth, and turns to look up at him.

 

Her cheeks are flushed from the sunlight, the slightest hint of a sunburn disappearing into her hairline. So close, he can count the dusting of freckles on her otherwise pale skin and Cassian knows he could draw them blindfolded like constellations of stars he learned by heart as a young boy.

 

“ You are so cheesy,” she breaks the silence, just above a whisper and with her lips barely holding back a grin. “ _ Here _ ?”

 

Cassian just nods, pressing his forehead to hers. 

 

He could have asked her anywhere and in any way, could have arranged for roses to rain down on them or for a plane to paint his question into the sky. He could have given her the ring he has been keeping hidden for weeks now. Worn silver with a pale blue crystal set in the center. 

 

Later, there will be time for that. Right now, all he needs is one more promise.

 

Jyn sighs contently, nudging the tip of her nose against his before murmuring a low  _ yes  _ into his parted lips, sealing the single word with a kiss that steals Cassian’s breath.

  
  


  
  


The apartment door has barely closed behind them when Jyn presses Cassian against the solid white wood, and he huffs out a surprised breath. But the sound dies quickly, suffocated by her lips capturing his in a greedy kiss.

 

Their hands are still entwined but Jyn quickly uncurls the fingers of her right hand to wrap them around his neck instead. Perfectly, the curves of her body mold against his, and Cassian’s eyes drift shut, heavy with desire, as he wraps his arm tightly around her waist to hold her even closer.

 

It’s always like this. Every time, he wishes he could crawl beneath her skin, be closer, closer, closer. It never seems to be enough.

 

An undignified snort escapes him when Jyn pulls away from the kiss and starts unbuckling his belt instead, her all too skilled fingers quick and efficient. For a brief second, he takes in the game of shadows and light from the sun that streams into the apartment and into the hallway through the large open door that lead to the living area.

 

The apartment belongs to Leia and beats any hotel they could have afforded by a hundred miles. Hardwood floors and expensive furniture, bright walls that seems to trap in the sunlight, and a view of the ancient houses across the street and the iron skeleton of the Eiffel Tower, close to the touch. 

 

Right now, the sun shines brightly through the full-length windows, and the ribs of the window frames are reflected against the hallway walls, splaying delicately across Jyn’s skin in a curious pattern he’d love to take the time to trace with the tip of his finger and tongue. But Jyn has other plans.

 

“Why are you in such a hu-,” he starts, but then her hand slides right into the front of his pants and whatever he meant to say is replaced by a muttered, pathetically strangled curse.

 

Jyn’s lips twitch with the hint of a pleased grin.

 

“I think we have something to celebrate, don’t you agree?”

 

With a joyous laugh, she tugs at his hand, and Cassian is lost to her as she pulls him through the apartment. Their steps echo among the high, old ceilings, and when they enter the bedroom, neither of them bothers to close the door. This is their own safe haven, no need to keep down their voices or close doors and blinds for a hint of privacy.

 

The soft mattress, probably worth more than a few months worth of rent for their tiny apartment back home, dips ever so slightly when Jyn pulls him down on top of her. Shoes are clumsily kicked off, landing on the wooden floor with a series of thuds.

 

Beneath his roaming hands, Jyn’s skin feels as soft as always but warmed now by the sun. Slowly, much slower than Jyn wants, Cassian peels her sundress away from her body, undoing each button with precise dedication. Between her breasts, the crystal she holds so dear rests heavily against her skin. He nudges it with his nose, drawing a soft burst of laughter from Jyn’s lips as she grins down at him. Every inch of skin that is revealed after that he cherishes with his lips and tongue and calloused fingers. He traces the lines and dips of her, maps out constellations of scars and freckles.

 

The scar low on her abdomen is the largest by far, and even now it fills him with dread to see it. By now, it has faded, but still the tissue that remains is corded thickly. He traces it with his nose and Jyn sighs, sensation in the marred skin dulled. Her fingers sift through his hair as he peppers kisses from one end to the other and back, one arm curled around her to press against her lower back, the other reaching up to tug down the cup of her bra.

 

Seeing the scar, feeling the ridge of it against his lips, brings it all back.

 

The five minutes standing paralyzed in the ambulance on their way to the hospital watching Jyn die under the paramedics’ frantic hands.

 

The six hours he sat on a hard plastic chair in a blindingly white hallway waiting as Jyn fought for her life in surgery.

 

The week he sat determinedly by her side, holding her hand, whispering to her while she was trapped in a coma, unresponsive.

 

The eight months it took until she came back to work, filled with hours of therapy, tears, shouting, whimpering, bravery and dedication.

 

The years since then. So _full_ that his heart aches from it all even now.

 

“Cassian,” she whispers softly, pulling at his arm until he faces her again. The thoughts that spin through his mind are plain for her to see, carved into the lines on his face, and she traces them away with the tips of her fingers. 

 

“I love you,” he murmurs against her lips. His entire body shivers when she peels his shirt from him and presses a warm hand to his heart. In the confines of his rib cage, it beats a quick and excited rhythm, his cheeks flushed and warmer to the touch than her sun-kissed skin.

 

Jyn smiles, content in a way that he knows she does not allow many people to bear witness to and rarely allows herself to be.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

When they are bare, when skin is smooth against skin and her hair tickles his neck, her fingers hold on to him, her breath dampens his lips, Cassian knows that he won’t have to hold on to everything that has passed.

 

Instead, he decides, he’ll look forward only to all the years yet to come, and the future he can feel burning brightly and full of promise in the way Jyn falls into his embrace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the kind, funny, and thoughtful comments on this story - I really had a blast sharing this with you and I hope you enjoyed the ending ❤︎
> 
> And for those of you who enjoy visuals as much as I do, [this](http://www.uniqueestate.fr/ad,for-sale-apartment-paris-07,6484,6438,en.html) is the inspiration for the Paris apartment.


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